Muggle World
by Peasant Girl
Summary: It's the summer before 7th year starts at Hogwarts and Hermione is hanging out with her friends in London. She's having a great time...but what happens when she runs into Draco?
1. It's Impossibe!

Disclaimer: Nope--Harry Potter isn't mine...Sheesh, why do we have to put this? It gets quiet annoying. I mean, come on! We all know J.K. Rowling owns it! Lol, don't answer this question; I know that it's just out of respect and that giving her credit is totally right D So please don't be going, "Well, duh! It's, just, like totally rude! Gosh!" Lol, I'm feeling kinda sarcastic at the moment if you haven't reaslized it - Get over it P

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**The Muggle World **

**Chapter One:**

**It's Impossible!**

"So where to next, girls?" Emily, Hermione's muggle best friend, asked the group of 17-year-olds who walked down the busy shop-market street, bags full of cloths and jewelry slung over their shoulders.

"Haven't we been everywhere now?" Hermione laughed. She was enjoying her summer vacation in London so far, hanging out with her old school friends. They'd welcomed her back warmly and tipped her off on all the new hits that were going on. That day they decided on a shopping spree—Hermione was stocked up on all the newest styles.

In fact, she was wearing an out-fit that she'd bought only a few hours ago, right then. Her jeans were so tight, Hermione found it hard to make long strides—but they were hott (AN: yes, I mean two 't's): the back pockets were designed with golden spirals and the belt was a thin teal scarf that tied off. Her shirt was a small navy-blue tank top that hugged her woman form, making it stick out far more than usual. On her feet were plain black flip-flops and even her hair was up! It looked nice, though. The once frizzy and out of control poofball had calmed down to gentle wavy locks that flowed half way down her back.

Never before had Hermione dress so _girly_ in her life. She'd always been so caught up in her studies to notice looks. But this summer break she had let her old friends talk her into a "make over" and she was actually having fun.

Brook, another girl in the group, laughed and swatted playfully at Hermione's head with a Kohl's bag. "We're not even _near_ being done, Herm! This place has grown so much since last you've been here, you couldn't imagine!" Everyone giggled and agreed.

"How about Rue21?" Cecile chirped in. "I've heard they got great prices there, though I haven't been myself. It just opened a few days ago." Again all the girls giggled and agreed; yes, they'd heard of it, yes, it was suppose to be cheap, and yes, all the cloths were known to be up to date! It sounded like paradise, even to "give me a book and I'll be fine" Hermione Granger.

So the flock of gossiping girls headed towards Rue21, eager to buy and spend on any cute item they thought cool.

After about another ten-minute walk, they finally reached the store. From the window cases there were manikins that were showing off all different styles for both boys and girls: gothic, preppy, skateboarding, casual, baggy… 'All they're missing is Geeky,' Hermione thought. She had to contain herself from falling over with laughter.

The first thing she noticed when the automatic doors opened was the cool air-conditioning that rushed past her. Second was loud alternative music that she recognized as Greenday.

Staying together, the excited group of girls went to the nearest aisle that turned out to be full of fashion hats; different colors, sizes, shape, textures, and brands. They rummaged through them all, trying on ones they like and asking their friends' advice if it was "hot or not". Time passed by and soon the girls were breaking up into other areas. Hermione and Emily stayed put, modeling for each other.

Hermione picked up a blue visor that she thought would go well with her out-fit. And—to her utter surprise—on the front side of it the words _Feeling Witchy_ were scribbled out fancily on it. "Perfect," Hermione murmured and shoved the visor on her head. She turned around to get Emily's approval.

The blonde head girl squealed in delight and clapped her hands once. "That is _so awesome_, Herm!" she exclaimed. "It matches great! Not to mention sexy!" They both laughed and had to hold each other to steady themselves.

"So you think I should get it?" Hermione asked. But she knew she'd get it no matter what—she was a witch after all, and she wanted to show it, even though she knew people wouldn't really think her one. 'I mean, its not like they'll really think me one. Magic isn't known over here.' Also this way she wouldn't completely be giving away her title for the summer. No, she would keep this hat in remembrance that she had a school to finish in her last year at Hogwarts when she went back after vacation.

"Definitely. Now come one. Let's go look over at those shirts—I need to find a cute pink one to go with those shorts I bought."

The two girls looked through the racks of T-shirts, giving comments on this or that one. Emily found what she wanted; she gushing on how wonderful she'd look tomorrow when she wore it. Hermione had to contain herself from bursting into laughter. She was joking, right? Yeah, she was sure she'd look great—but did she have to go out and mush over it like Heaven?

Also Emily found a gold and red one that she said she _had_ to buy for Hermione. "The colors look fabulous on you, Herm. You should wear them more often."

'Doesn't surprise me,' Hermione thought with a grin. 'I_ am_ a Gryffindor, right? They're my colors.' She felt proud that she was a lion…yet alone at the same time. She missed the Wizarding School, missed her friends and lessons. 'Stop thinking of that and enjoy yourself!' Hermione snapped at her self mentally. 'Enjoy your time spending with friends and family. You barely get to see them with school.' But still, she wished for another witch or wizard was there with her. It felt a little lonely, being the only magic user there with all those muggles.

They continued leafing through the shirts, breaking into song whenever they knew what was playing in the shop, causing them to laugh hysterically. 'See-I'm _laughing_! I didn't do much of that back in Hogwarts…' Hermione silently kicked herself. 'Stop thinking of dumb school! Sheesh!'

The whispers of Brook and Cecil reached their ears and they looked at each other. Emily motioned for Hermione to follow her. They quietly walked over to the two girls who were crouching behind a curtain of clothing—they were right on the boarder separating the girl's section from the boys'. The four looked at one another, Brook and Cecil had silly grins on their faces.

"What's going on?" Emily asked, keeping her voice down. "Why are you guys hiding back here like a bunch of morons?" This erupted loud giggles from all of them but immediately stopped when they heard a gruff moan on the other side.

"Will you all just _shut up_ and leave? Gees! Some people actually come to shop, you know, not goof around like idiots." Hermione froze. She'd know that voice anywhere…but that was impossible! How—why would he be here? Standing up so her head popped over the rack, Hermione's eyes grew wide at the young man before her. 'My eyes are deceiving me,' she concluded, blinking her eyes a couple times as though trying to clear her vision. 'He can't be here! _It's impossible!_"

She stampered his name out loud, still not convinced. "M—Malfoy?"

The blonde headed Slytherin nodded slowly, looking at Hermione suspiciously and holding a fashion, silk button-down blue shirt up against him as though in defense. He was wearing a pair of plain, baggy blue jeans and a loose T-shirt that had the word **SEXY** printed in bold letters in the middle of it. To put it simple, Draco Malfoy was wearing _muggle clothing_! She never thought she'd see this day. Now it was his turn to ask. "Granger?"

Hermione nodded. Their gazes were still locked, never wavering as though if they did the other might attack. 'This isn't right. No, this is totally wrong. I've gotta be sleeping. Wake me up from this nightmare!' Three other heads poked up and starred at the two Hogwarts' students, confusion written all over their faces. "Hey, Herm?" Emily said tentively, feeling the tension building between the two. "You guys know each other from somewhere?"

"Sadly," they replied at the same time, tones low and hateful. 'Boy, this is going to be fun,' Hermione thought bitterly, sarcasm dripping. 'And I thought I was rid of him for the next three months.'

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Author's Note: Wow...I, like, got really bored so I made this chapter up in like two hours. Not much, but hey, whatever. lol. I'm not sure if I'm gonna continue this...I just made it up cuz I was bored like I said before lol. Anyways, tell me if you think I should continue or not. 

Giving you all my love and hate,

Peasant


	2. Wear This Tomorrow

**The Muggle World**

**Chapter Two:**

**Wear This Tomrrow**

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"What are you doing here?" Hermione snapped.

Draco glared back for a moment, a scowl plastered on his face. Then, out of nowhere, he stopped and smirked, that famous, disgusting smirk that only a Malfoy could muster. "Why, Hermione," he said sweetly, almost lovingly which sent a shiver down her spin—and what was up with the use of her first name? "God, I wasn't expecting to see you. Do you live around here or something?" Hermione only blinked, surprised on the sudden kindness. What was he up to now? This didn't look good. When she didn't answer him, only gave the death glare, Draco continued on like they were old friends. "Yeah, I know, weird to meet up like this, huh?" He chuckled, set down the shirt, and walked over to the four girls. "Well, don't be rude, girl! Tell me who your friends are."

Still in shock and unsure about what was going on, Hermione pointed to each of the teenagers who where absolutely gushing over the hansom boy in front of them. He greeted the all with another smirk and then turned back to Hermione. "Clean up nicely, don't ya, Granger? Nice to see you in some average cloths—and you hair! Whoa! This is a definite first for the know-it-all Hermione Granger."

"Nice to see that you've gotten out of those robes also, Malfoy," she mocked back at him, hiding her venom equally as well. Emily's, Brook's, and Cecil's eyes seemed glued on Draco, gawking over his handsome form. Hermione felt like puking right there. 'They wouldn't be like that if they knew the true him. Poor girls—falling for his charms just like all the other fools.' She inwardly sighed heavily.

"So…" Cecil said flirtatiously, glancing over at Hermione eagerly. "You guys go to the same private school or something?" Draco raised an eyebrow at the witch next to him, obviously amused by her lie on where she went to school. He opened his mouth, but was cut off by Hermione's quick thinking.

"Yeah, we do. He's quite popular there, you know. And not only in good terms…" She smirked innocently at him and the Slytherin howled with laughter. At least she had a sense of humor; wasn't expecting that from the mudblood.

"You aren't to low on the scale, either, Granger," Draco retorted, "hanging out with Potter and all. Not many people get to befriend a hero."

The three girls squealed surprisingly. "What does he mean, Herm!" Emily asked excitedly. "You never told us anything about hanging out with some _hero_. What's this all about?"

Hermione gave a swift, tiring glance at Draco then faced back to the jittery group. She was sick of lying to them every time part of her school life came up in their discussions. This was the first time Harry had been mention, though—she'd been extra careful not to speak of her friends; not that she didn't like talking about them, just that she didn't want to go into detail…like Harry fighting against Voltomor and Ron living in the Burrow. It wasn't safe bringing those types of things up in the Muggle dwellings. Taking a deep breath, Hermione explained, "One of my best friends in America"—that's where the _private school _was—"is counted a hero among us 'cause he's done some pretty…urm… '_heroic_' things in the past." Even to her ears it sounded lame. But whatever, it worked and that's all that mattered. "I don't really feel like getting into details at the moment…" The girls still starred anxiously at her, their eyes drilling into hers with an unspoken question. "Wh—what?" she stampered. Then, just when it struck her, she jerked her finger at the blonde headed boy. "Oh, this is Malfoy by the way." Her cheeks reddened at her stupidity.

Draco glared at her. "Damn, Herm, no need for last names around friends," he said, using her nickname easily and… Did he just say that they were _friends_? No way! It was the total opposite! He turned his attention back to the three. "You all can call me Draco. Malfoy's the last name, but no need to be formal or anything, right?" He flashed them his famous smirk that melted every girl's heart—except Hermione's, that is. "So…what are you all up to?" His voice was casual, as though he were hanging with long lost relatives.

Before anyone could gabber on their shopping spree, Hermione answered matter-of-factly with a tint of cold hidden beneath: "Actually, we were just going, right? Let's jet. It was nice seeing you, _Draco_. Maybe we'll see you around. Good-bye, then."

She was turning around when a strong, cool and smooth hand firmly grabbed her elbow. Spinning around, she met Draco's grinning face. "What?" she asked distractedly. Why didn't he get that she just didn't want him around! But she couldn't smack his hand away; her friends were watching and the last thing she wanted was for them to thing she was some anti-guy chick. She had to admit, Draco _was_ a handsome young man. Any girl would be a fool to hate such a gorgeous face without a good reason. And buddy, it wasn't like she could go explaining to them that this man in front of them a Death Eater and used magic. That wouldn't go so well.

Again with his famous trademark smirk. "What yourself. Anyways, do you really plan on walking out with the hat without paying?" He chuckled quietly at her second blush, brighter than the first. "And may I add that it's quite…quite _you_." This time both of them smiled at each other, laughing silently at the inside joke only they understood. Hermione couldn't help her lips curling—that was a good one, she had to admit.

Being the chatterbox she is, Brook broke out in despair, "But Herm! We aren't done yet! There are some pretty cute jeans over there and Cecil and me were modeling. Besides, all the other girls are still wondering about, I bet…we can't just leave them here. We have ta stay till they're done as well."

The Gryffindor groaned softly and could feel Draco grinning by her side. Why did he have to be such an ass? "All right then," Hermione mumbled. "Wanna join in with them, Em? Try on that new shirt and skirt; see how it fits. I'll find something as well, I guess." Agreeing excitedly, the four girls rushed off to make a "fashion show". But before Hermione got out of his grasp, Draco grabbed her wrist and was forced to look back at him once more. She gave him another distracted, questioning look. "Yeah?"

Giving an irresistible pout, Draco said, "Leaving me out of the fun so soon? Gees, Granger, show some respect! Don't go leaving your own blood hanging."

She yanked her arm back and gave him another glare; the girls weren't around. "What's with you, retard?" she hissed venomously. "What's with the kindness act? What are you planning exactly to do to ruin my summer?" He looked genuinely surprised and Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't play stupid with me, Malfoy! Just leave me alone, all right? Torment me back at Hogwarts, where I'll be able to fight back—just _not here!_" With that, she turned swiftly on her heels and started to storm off again—only for the hand to grab her elbow again.

"Don't tell me what to do, Mudblood!" Draco snarled. "I'll do whatever I want, whenever I want. Understand? It's not like you're my first choice to be with, you know. But even being with a half-breed is better than all these filthy Muggles. Okay? I am not here looking for trouble or friendship, only magic company and nothing else. Nothing else," he repeated, running out of breath at last. Taking another deep one, Draco continued again. "I bet you're the same; being around all these non-magic-users is quite tiring. I know we're mortal enemies—but still, I can't stand it! Just let us hang out some, okay? NOT to start up any friendship or settlement or anything, only for the company. When we get back to school, _none_ of this ever happened, understand? Understand?" Dumbstruck, Hermione blinked at him. He was feeling the same was as she was? But he had so many followers…wait, they were in the Muggle world—there wouldn't be a whole flock of them just roaming around; so why was Draco Malfoy here? Not trusting her voice, she just nodded, still unsure about the whole ordeal. He smirked and let finally let go. Hermione rubbed her slightly bruised wrist. "Okay then, cool… Now, aren't you suppose to be putting on a show for me?"

Her mouth gapped open. "What! Not for _you_, no!"

"Hey, hey! I was just kidding, sheesh!" He gave a gruff laugh and added, "The last thing I suspected was to see you around—and dressing like _this_! I'm still having trouble digesting the news." Hermione's deepening blush didn't help cease Draco's laughter. "All right then, so…" Suddenly he became nervous. _The_ Draco Malfoy—nervous! Ha! "You don't mind if I hang out and watch your little show, right?" She blinked again. Now he was _asking_? Something wasn't right there. But she shrugged, hating to say no when her friends already loved him so much.

"Fine. I'm gonna go find something to try on. We'll meet you at the dressing room. I guess you could give us tips or something…" Hermione mumbled and started back off towards the cloths racks. 'This so isn't right,' she kept thinking. 'This so isn't.' Yet she couldn't help but be happy. _Why?_ Come on! This was her archenemy for crying out loud!

She began shuffling through the dresses, looking for something that would look nice, but wouldn't bring attention to herself incase Draco decided to make fun of her for her "new taste of clothing". Not to her surprise, nothing fit her description. But there was this one that she thought would look quite good on her… Hermione took it down and held it up for closer examination. The material was thin and a dark red that would make her hair stick out nicely. It was spaghetti strapped and a V-collar that exposed her next and a good amount of skin below. The skirt part would end up going down her thighs and stop a little after her knees. Smiling, Hermione pressed it against herself and looked down. She thought, 'I'll just try it on; besides, all the others are pretty ugly, honestly. And I highly doubt Malfoy will make fun of me.' Deciding to try it on, she went over to the dressing rooms.

Draco sat on a bench, leaning his chin on his elbow. He was waiting for the girls to come out and show off to him like they always did. 'Flirts,' he thought with a small smirk forming at the corners of his lips. 'It's all way the same—no wonder I stopped coming along with those Slytherin girls.' But he knew the only reason he was there was to see Hermione. Not that he _liked_ her or anything; she was just the only magic user around is all. Nothing more. He kept telling himself this. Hearing someone clear her throat, Draco shot up and looked over at Hermione who nodded at him. A red bunch of cloth was thrown over one of her arms and she started to enter a dressing room.

One after one, the girls came out of their dressing rooms to model for Draco, giggling flirtatiously and asking for his guy's point of view. He told them what he thought—some times it was nice and others he told things that could be improved. On a regular basis, Draco would have been totally honest and told them that it was actually looked repulsing on them, but he didn't want to be rude to Hermione's friends and hurt their feelings; then there'd be no way the Gryffindor would hang out with him at all. The last to come out, taking two-times longer than it did for the others, Hermione poked her head out of the dressing room, making sure not to show anything else. Everyone, the girls back in their normal clothes and Draco, starred at her impatiently.

"Get your butt out here, Herm!" Emily cried. "Show us how sexy ya look! Yeah!" Draco smirked while the others laughed loudly and coaxed her out. Finally giving up, Hermione sighed and opened the door wider and stepped out fully. She looked gorgeous: with her hair cast down her back now and a simple, light dark red dress hugging her form perfectly, making it stick out much more than Draco vaguely remembered. She gave a small twirl, dress and hair flying as well. While the girls gave catcalls and praise, Draco just sat back, taking her in. This wasn't the same girl he knew from Hogwarts—it couldn't be! The girl in front of him now was beautiful and lit up with life; and the girl at school was always covered in books and wearing robes to hide under. They just _couldn't_ be the same girl!

Hermione caught his eye and they both starred at each other, waiting for the other to speak first. Finally Draco breathed, "You look great." It was enough to make color rise to her cheeks and look away, murmuring under her voice.

"So, Herm, you gonna buy it or what?" asked Brook eagerly still admiring the dress on her friend. "You better—that's the best you've found yet!" They all agreed excitedly.

"Well, I dunno…" She picked up the price tag hanging on the waist of the dress and her eyes went wide. "Whoa!" Hermione exclaimed. "No way!" The girls whined and

asked the price. "Eighty dollars," she answered.

"Damn." Emily barely cursed and this was a surprise. "But it's so perfect on you, Herm! It's like I was made especially for you!" She put on a puppy-pout and Hermione only shrugged helplessly, motioning that she didn't have enough money.

Standing up, Draco walked over to her and checked the price tag himself, leaning over so his check brushed against her skin; he felt her shiver at the contact and almost grinned before he caught his action. It indeed said eighty dollars. 'Damn's right,' he thought sarcastically, wanting the Gryffindor to have it just as much as the others—not that he liked her, just because they were right: the slinky dress seemed to have been made just for her. Clearing his throat, Draco said, "I'll pay." All eyes turned towards him, mouths gapped open. "I have the money; my father's a rich man, making me rich as his son." He flashed Hermione a secret grin. "Take it off and I'll purchase it with the other things I'm getting as well, okay? I will be waiting by the cash register." And then he turned around and went on his way, picking up the clothing he was going to buy as well.

Hermione blushed as the three girls watched the Slytherin retreat and then turn back to her, their eyes big and envious. "What?" she said defendingly. "Well, I'm going to change out of this. You guys go and gather up the others; I guess we're leaving then. Meetcha back at the front!" Then she rushed into the dressing room again before they could say a word; she was still trying to figure out why Draco was acting so kind and she really didn't want their "Oh, my God, he is so crushing on you!" comments. That's just silly. Draco Malfoy, a pureblood, crushing on Hermione Granger, a mudblood? Ha! That would be the day. But…still, she wondered about the sudden kindness. Was he really that desperate for magical company?

Quickly changing out of the dress, the Gryffindor placed it back on its hanger and shoved on her own close again. Then she exited the room and speed walked towards the registers. Draco was chatting to one of the cashiers, a boy around their own age. Hermione walked over to them and handed Draco the dress, giving him a thankful smile as well. He nodded and placed it with the other things—snatching the visor from her head and placing it among them as well, even when Hermione began to protest.

While they waited side by side, Hermione couldn't help but feel the man bagging their purchases starring at her. Obviously Draco to, because she could feel his scowl and him moving closer to her, as though he owned her as well. This made Hermione blush and stare down at her toes like they were the most interesting things in the world. Once he was done bagging and told Draco the price, he pulled a thick wallet from his back pocket and flipped through a wad of cash. He pulled out five hundreds and shoved it at the cashier, mumbling, "Keep the change," and grabbed Hermione's elbow, dragging her away from the man, towards the doors where they waited for the group of girls to reform.

When the others met up with them—Brook, Emily, Cecil and two more girls who gawked over Draco like he were a god—they exited the store, back out to the crowded shopping street. Looking at a silver watch on his writs, Draco looked at the time. He groaned and ran a hand through his blonde hair. "Damn it, it's already 4:00. I'm suppose to meet up with my mom for…" He glanced at Hermione and stopped mid sentence. "Well, I just promised my mom I'd be there by now." Sighs of disappointment went around the girls. Draco pulled out the visor from the bag, put it on Hermione's head and then took out her dress that he'd asked to be bagged separately. But before he handed it to her, he smirked and said, "Wear this tomorrow—it's not like I bought it just for you to hang it up in your closet to be forgotten. Come back here around two again also tomorrow, okay? Well, I'll see ya then." Draco shoved the bag and business card into her hand. Then, with a gruff nod, he turned around and became lost in the sea of people moving this way and that.

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Author's Note: Hey everybody! What's up? Well, here's chapter two fer y'all. What do you think? Review, peoples! Review! Lol jk jk. Anyways, I'm gonna quite this note and start on chapter three now 

For All My Reviewers: Thank you fer all th' reviews! Muah! Y'all are too sweet! lol -hands out _Feelin' Witchy_ hats- Quite a few of ya said you wanted one lol. But really, thanks fer the reviews they keep me going! Besides, I have a pretty nice idea on where this all is going and all so it will be easy fer me ta write.

Just a poem that isn't all the way done:

_Come on, Baby, you know I'm right._

_My love is yours, so hold on tight._

_You're loosing your grip,_

_Slipping away from me._

_Please, Baby, don't let this be._

_You say I'm a liar, that I'm a foe._

_Well, Baby, I guess you don't know_

_You're fooling yourself,_

_My love is completely true_

_And once upon a time, yours was too._

_If you let go now, you'll really be gone._

_So tell me, Baby, how to live on._

_Just hold on a little longer,_

_And let me explain._

_Then maybe you'll see my ownpain._

_My heart is making a command_

_That you just have to understand._

_Don't you remember your promise?_

_The promise where you swore your eternal love_

_On that onesmall star way, way up above?_

_How could I forget, Baby,_

_When you held no "maybe"._

_But now you say that's a lie?_

_Oh, come on, I know that's not you._

_You're the one who's lying, because I love you too!_

Okay, back to writing chapter three! Oh, and sorry that this chapter took so long to get put on had some things in reality to do lol.

With All My Hate And Love

Peasant


	3. BOWLING!

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Muggle World

**Chapter Three:**

**BOWLING!**

Hermione stood in front of a full-length mirror in her room. It was 12:00 p.m. and she was already getting dressed for meeting up with Draco again. Sure her ride wouldn't be there till another hour and a half, but she couldn't help fretting over her appearance. Was she wearing too much makeup? Was too much cleavage exposed? What would Draco thing? —Okay, yeah, now she really _was_ over reacting: She was worried about a Malfoy's opinion! Why was she acting so weird? Still, she couldn't help it. So she continued to stare at her reflection. With little facial makeup on, hair put into a messy-bun while her bangs hung loose, Hermione looked even better than yesterday when she had first tried the dress on.

Spinning around once more, Hermione went to sit on her bed and try to relax—only to get straight back up and check her image once more. While she fixed a strand of her hair, she frowned; why was she obsessing over how she looked for Draco? She shouldn't care—she shouldn't even be hanging out with him in the first place. But now that she was, Hermione found it hard to get him off her mind. Why, why, _WHY?_ It just didn't make any sense! They were mortal enemies, for crying out loud! A single tear formed at the corner of her eye and Hermione turned away from the mirror again. It was too complicated: she couldn't get her emotions strait.

Going over to her closet, she opened it and bent down, rummaging through a pile of miss-match shoes that she never got around to organizing; usually she just wore a pair of worn-out, comfortable tennis shoes. But wearing _those,_ with _this_ dress—no, even Hermione wasn't that fashion blind. Finding a plain black-heeled flip-flop, she dug through the pile till she found the other. She slipped them on and then stood up, immediately noticing the half-an-inch height difference. Swearing this was the last time she looked, Hermione turned back to the mirror. They matched nicely with her out fit—but doesn't black go with everything? —nodded her own approval, and then opened her bedroom door. She swiftly exited and went down the steps and into the living room. There she slumped down into the couch and took a novel off the coffee table; she'd get her mind off everything by reading until Emily came to pick her up.

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_"Honk! Hoooonk!"_

Hermione was startled back to reality from the book she was reading by the sound of a car's horn. Glad that she was the only one there (her mother had a thing about people who 'didn't even have the respect to get out of their stupid car and knock'), Hermione bolted up from the couch and opened the front door. Parked on the curb sat a beaten up, huge blue van, girls' and boys' heads poking out from the top. Hermione frowned: was the car roof missing or something? She walked down the steps and went across the driveway to the van where a side door swung over, revealing Cecil's grinning face right in front of her; others were behind her who also wore the same expression.

"God, Herm!" Cecil said. "Don't you look hot! Drake is _so_ lucky to have you!"

"Drake?" she asked. "Do you mean Draco? Besides, we aren't together. You know that." Hermione climbed in to the back, the others moving aside to make room. There were still the same girls—Emily sitting in front with a boy—but she didn't recognize the three extra guys who were there as well. She gabbed her finger at one. "Who are they?"

All the girls giggled and Emily explained. "This is Raymond, my boyfriend." She placed a hand on the driver's arm, who turned around and smiled at her in acknowledgment; he was pretty handsome, with his long, dark brown hair. "This is Tyler, Mary's boy," she continued, pointing to the one closest to her and the girl Mary hugged him cutely; they made an adorible pair. "And then this is Brook's boy, George." Lastly she motioned to the very back where Brook sat in a guy's lap. "Oh, and everybody: This is Herm, our private school best friend!" The guys said their hellos, and then went back to chatting with there girlfriends. Hermione couldn't help but feel envious.

She took a seat in the middle by Cecil and Sarah, who also didn't have a boy to coo over. At least she wasn't alone. Looking up, Hermione noted that there really _wasn't_ a roof over their heads; the London sun flowed freely in through the top, lighting up the inside brightly. She was about to ask about it when Cecil spoke up. "Since you have Drake to hang out with and all, Mary kinda got jealous so she decided to invite her own boyfriend," she said out of nowhere. "Well, there wasn't room inside Emily's car for an extra person so she invited her boy for his van. Then, since there was room, Brook invited _her_ boyfriend. But now even the van is over crowded with you here now. And me and Sarah are left out of the whole dating process; not the first choice of ours, ya know."

Annoyed that they didn't know his name and thought they were going out, Hermione said, "It's not Drake—it's Draco. And we aren't together; I've told you this a million times." The two girls sighed and rolled their eyes, saying that it was quite obvious he liked her. Hermione ignored the gestures and said, "So, do you guys know what we're doing today? Like another shopping spree or something?"

They both shrugged. "Nope, we have no idea," Sarah answered, cocking her head lazily upward to stare at the sky. "I guess we're just hoping that your _Draco _will have something in mind…Hey, do you know why his name is 'Draco'? I mean, I've never heard that name used before. It sounds—I don't know—kinda dark and devilish." The rest of the ride to the shopping street was cozy, the talk separated into four groups: The three girls chatting about how a name was originated (Hermione, of course, knew all about it) and the others flirting with one another.

About another twenty minutes later they arrived in the parking lot. And, being the cheap-o-s they are, the city charged them a four-dollar fee to have a space; the large group scrambled out of the stuffy van, glad for the fresh, summer air that rushed through their lungs. They all walked the short distance to the busy street market and pushed and shoved their way to Rue21. The group of nine squeezed in through the automatic doors and Hermione spotted the handsome blonde right away; he was talking to the same guy from yesterday, their faces grim. She tensely walked over to them. "Hey," she said in a quiet, high-pitched voice, even more nervous - their bad vibes were stronger now.

Both the boys turned towards her, the boy quickly looking away as though burned by the sight of her. Draco nodded and started walking towards the entrance. Stumbling after him, Hermione quickly fell in step. She blinked up at him questioningly. "What was all that about?"

"All what?" he asked vacantly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. Back there, with that cashier. What were you guys talking about?" Draco didn't even spare her a glance as they came to the waiting teenagers. Hermione introduced them all and when the retarded boys went, "Sup, Drake. Nice ta meetcha," she was about to correct them when Draco just shrugged and replied politely, remembering each name.

"So," Tyler spoke up, "what're we gonna do?" Everyone was quiet and, for some reason, all eyes were on Draco. He shuffled his feet once and caught Hermione's eye, his look pleading. Then it hit her: Of course! He didn't know what muggles did for entertainment, growing up in the Wizarding World and all. Coming to his silent demand, she started listing off possible things, counting off on her fingers as though thinking out loud: 

"There's movies, arcade, pizza, karaoke, bowling…"

"BOWLING!" everyone cheered in union, knocking Hermione and Draco back a step in surprise. Laughing, they all pushed their way outside once again and headed towards the lot where the van was parked—a waist of four dollars, if you asked Hermione.

When they reached it, Draco stopped dead in his tracks, causing the others to do the same and face him, wondering what was up. "You're riding in _that_?" he spat with disgust and Hermione winced. Could he be any more blunt?

Looking offended, Raymond said, "It's the only thing that can hold us all. Nothing can get any bigger."

Draco snorted. "Well, I'm taking my car then. I'll follow your lead." With that he started walking in a different direction, the turned back around. "Hey, Herm—wanna come? You could see my new wheels." She hesitated, not liking the idea of being in the same car with a Malfoy. But, remembering the cramp, stuffy van, she decided against it and trotted after him, waving her friends goodbye and gave an apologetic glance at Raymond who did not seem fazed anymore.

They walked in silence, Hermione following, until Draco said, "Vola!" and stopped in front of a green convertible mustang, silver snakes painted on the sides. Hermione gasped; it was a beautiful car, not to mention it matched him well, showing off his house's creature.

"Pretty nice, huh?" Draco grinned. "Might have cost a bit, but nothing us Malfoy's can't afford, right?" He chuckled and went around to the driver's door and jumped in, landing neatly in the seat. Motioning for Hermione to do the same, he started up the mustang and she scrambled into the passenger's seat, closing the door with a soft _click_.

Reversing out of the space, they saw the beaten up van with heads peering out the top at them. Draco flicked a lazy hand, telling to keep going. The heads bobbed back down and the vehicle slowly started puttering out ever so slowly. Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, the impatient Slytherin sighed and trail after them, the meter only saying 2 MPH. "Hope the go faster than this on the highway," he muttered.

Hermione answered, "How else do you think we got here?" With a small laugh, she added, "We were going so fast I thought the thing would fall completely apart!" Silence took over as they turned on to the roads, next the highway. Wind whooshed into the convertible, causing their hair to fly—Hermione had to push her bangs behind her ears. A minute passed by, then two, which seemed like forever with the uncomfortable quiet. Hermione starred at her hands folded in her lap; maybe the crude ride in that van would have been better than this awkwardness.

Another moment passed like this and finally Draco reached out to the radio and turned a knob: hard metal rock blared out from the hidden back seat speakers. Seeing the Gryffindor cringing in disgust, he inwardly smirked and turned down the volume. Still, she looked distressed and he asked, "What? You don't like rock or something?" 'Well,' he thought, 'I guess it makes sense: heavy rock doesn't seem to go well with her.'

Bluntly, the brown head started, "No." A pause. "The only music I hate is this type and rap. They just…don't seem to go well with me." Draco blinked. She'd just read his exact thoughts! And before he realized it, Hermione had reached over and flipped the station. Now some sappy, soft-rock love song played. Giving her a nasty glare, Draco flipped it back—only for Hermione to reach again and change it back to hers. But this time she didn't take away her hand. The two Hogwarts students glared at each other. Draco, one hand still firmly on the wheel, inched the other closer and closer to Hermione's that clung to the radio knob, getting ready to pounce.

"Let go," he warned, his voice threatening yet mocking at the same time.

Hermione grinned devilishly, a look Draco had never seen her use before. In the same tone he had, she replied, "Over my dead body."

Draco raised a thin blonde eyebrow. "I wouldn't put that in such terms, my dear Hermione: they might actually come true one day." Swift as a cat, Draco grabbed her hand and started trying to pry her fingers off. But Hermione clung to it with amazing power—not to mention that she was using her other hand to help at scratching Draco's. That went on for a while, their breathing a bit uneven and faces screwed up in frustration. Finally, after about two minutes of the _War Over the Station_, Draco had to grab the wheel with both hands again, for the mustang was veering off course and into the middle lane. Because of the twisting and turning of the knob, country music blared out of the speakers. Neither made a move to change it, even though they both hated country with a passion. (A/N: I am a country music fan, so don't get mad at me! Lol)

The Gryffindor sighed heavily and leaned back on the leather seat, closing her eyes. _That _wassomething, fighting over music with Draco Malfoy. What would Harry and Ron think when she told them? Then it hit her: she couldn't tell her two best friends about this—none of it for that matter. Oh, yeah, Harry Potter, the boy who lived, would _totally_ understand her hanging out with his archenemy! It would so be cool going up to them and saying, 'Hey, guys! How was your summer? Mine was fine, hanging out with Draco and all. Yeah, Draco Malfoy—we started calling each other by our first names because of my muggle friends; they would have thought it weird, you know? So now we're friends! Isn't it wonderful!' The thought made her inwardly groan. What was she even doing there, in the presence of a Malfoy? 'I mean, his father is a _Death Eater_ for God's sake! This isn't right!'

Her thoughts were interrupted by a chuckle to her left. Being the curious type, Hermione glanced over at Draco from the corner of her eyes. The idiot was laughing! A huge grin spread from ear to ear, his body relaxed easily and laughing widely now. He turned his head towards her and Hermione couldn't help it—she smiled despite herself. Then she was laughing too, head turned up and laughter tumbling off her lips freely. Suddenly she was humming along to the music, Draco hitting the dashboard in time. When the song ended and commercials took over, Hermione started giggling so uncontrollably that she ended up snorting loudly. Covering her mouth and nose, she dared an embarrassed look at the man beside her.

He was grinning. "Did you just _snort_? Oh, my god, that's hilarious!" They were back to the laughing fit once more. "Okay, okay," Draco managed out once they gained a bit of control, "better calm down now—this is the third time that I've gone off course now. I really don't want a ticket." So it was back to the silence, only this time it was welcoming and Hermione couldn't take the silly smile off her face. Draco broke the quiet with, "Now then, could you fill me in?" She looked over at him, his beautiful blonde hair flying in the wind. "What's 'bowling'?"

Again she laughed—he seemed to be good at making her do that…maybe too much for the likes of evil and good. "Bowling is a game that we muggles do—"

"Well, I know _that_."

"—where you take a ball made of polished marble or something like that and throw it down a lane, aiming at 10 bowling pins at the very end. You want to knock down as many as you can. Oh, and you don't want your ball to roll into the gutters; that's another reason why you want to keep it even and in the middle."

Draco rolled his eyes and, with his cruel honesty, said, "Wow, now doesn't that sound like fun! So you guys think that throwing a ball in a strait line if intertaining? I knew you guys were boring, but still…"

Hermione glared at him. "It's more than 'throwing a ball in a strait line' as you say. We hang out and eat and chill and all those sorts of things. We barely even pay attention to the game!" The stubborn young man rolled his eyes yet again and Hermione sighed. "Look, you'll see my point when we get there. You'll have a great time, everybody always does. I mean kids don't even go there to bowl most of the time, just go to chat with friends."

"Fine, but if I become bored the slightest bit, I swear that I'll leave without a second thought. Okay?"

"Whatever." She turned to the window and watched as the lines of the highway street speed past, trying to keep up with the beat. Her thoughts wandered and the incident at Rue21 with the boy came to mind. "Hey, Draco?" A grunt. "What was up with you and that guy back at the store, really?"

He didn't look at her, didn't answer her question right away. Then: "I don't want to say; you'd laugh at me and start saying I'm turning soft. And, woman, I am _not_ turning soft. That's impossible for a Malfoy." Hermione continued starring at him util he flicked her an angry glare. "What? I'm not going to tell ya, okay? Give it up."

"If you haven't realized from these past six years, Malfoy, I'm not the kind to loose out on anything—either work or gossip. It'd be much easier for both of us if you just spilled instead of me dragging the information out of you. So what is it? Is he one of your Death Eater friends and you're making a plan to destroy the whole muggling world? I'm guess that's why you're here in the first place…"

The Slytherin sharply turned on her, causing Hermione to lean against the doorway. "You have no clue what's been going on in my life," he spat, cold silver eyes drilling into innocent brown ones. "And I don't plan on letting you butt in, Granger. Do you really what to know why I was talking to that fag? Fine. I was telling him to lay off you; that if he even set his eyes on you one more time, he'd never see anything from them again. Happy now? You just ruined my reputation. Congratulations." He faced the font again, concentrating intently on the road with a grim face.

Hermione just sat there, mouth agape, starring at Draco's frustrated form. Did he really just say that? Does that mean that he cares? But wait, that's impossible. He's got to be lying! Her mind was so jumbled she didn't even realize they had arrived at the bowling center. They exited without a word and met up with the others at the entrance. Exchanging quick hellos, the group scrambled in, greeted by the sound of pins being knocked down and alternative music. The air was filled with the smell of polish and nacho cheese.

They all rented out shoes, giving off different sizes—Hermione was surprised to see that Draco was only a size and a half bigger than her. According to everyone's opinions, that was pretty small considering that she was only a seven. She didn't comment on this, only shoved on the "special bowling shoes" and skittered over to the two lanes that they'd taken: four and five. All the boys punched their names into one of the computers while the girls did the other. It was tradition, girls against girls and boys against boys. They never played one another. Don't ask why—Hermione didn't know herself.

And the games started; taunts and cheers were thrown at those up. Hermione, being rusty from not playing in over a year, first got a gutter, but managed to get three down on her second chance. The girls squealed in delight and hugged her—they were defiantly not pros—and she laughed, looking over at the guys' lane. Draco was up, ball in hand and looking sternly down the lane as though measuring everything up. Hermoine bit her lip as he swung back his hand, then forward, and let go: the ball went perfectly down the middle, directly towards the top pin. And then there was the hit—Ca-rack! It was a clean strike. "Dude! Drake! That was freakin' awesome!" all the guys jeered, going over to him and hitting him on the back. "Congrats!" The boys all crowded around him and started shooting comment and comment towards him.

Hermoine walk over to him and grabbed his hand as in to get his attention. He immediately looked down at her, as though expecting her all along. She smiled warmly at him. "I didn't know you could do that, Draco—are you, like, some secret pro bowler or something?"

The blonde smiled back, a true smile. "No, this is really my first time—urm—bowling. I guess it runs in the Malfoy blood." Just then he realized that bringing up his family up wasn't a wise idea because Hermione frowned; he knew that'd he'd ruined the moment and mentally kicked himself. 'Damn! Why do I have to be such an ass?' More cheering was heard over next to the girls and Hermione used this as an excuse to leave, jumping up and down next to the girl Emily who just went. 'Hell.'

The game took up about an hour (because of all the gossiping between every turn). Hermione tried to avoid Draco as best she could, but once the first round was done—Draco winning seventy about all the others—the teens were whining for food. "Hey, Herm!" Marry cried, relaxed comfortably in a bar stool next to the lanes where they were all hanging out. "Since you're the only one up and all, mind if we give you some money and you run up to get us some nachos and coke?" But before she could stutter out her answer, the brunette called out, "Everybody! Herm's being our gal and ordering! Place your money on her and tell her whatcha want!" And then they were all on her, shoving money in her hands and yapping their orders.

When all the crumpled up money was clutched in her hands messily and the teens sat back down to chat, all the Gryffindor could do was stand there, her mouth gapped open in disbelief. "You're joking, right! How was I supposed to remember all that?" All she got was a sympatric look from Emily. Then Draco stood up. 

"Don't worry—I heard it all. Pretty much they said seven things of nachos, six cokes, and a _blueberry_ _airhead_, whatever that is. Here, I'll come with ya to help carry back." Again with his heart melting smile. 'I don't remember him actually _smiling_ before; maybe smirking, yeah, but _smiling—_and at _me_? "Come on, let's go." They walked over to the snack bar and ordered Draco's mental list. Why they waited for them to gather everything up, he spoke. "Look, Hermione, I'm sorry about—"

"It's alright," she said quickly, cutting off his apology. "I know you didn't mean anything, but…your father being a Death Eater and then rumors on you being one…"

"You don't really believe in that, do you?" he asked, almost pleading for her answer to be no.

"…" She didn't say anything for a moment, only started recounting the money still in her hands. "I…Well, I don't know…what to believe anymore." Hermione looked up at his with tears in her eyes. "Draco, we shouldn't be together like this! You shouldn't have bought me this dress and I shouldn't have taken a ride from you! For God's sake, you're my best friend's enemy!" A single tear rolled down her cheek and Draco wiped it away with is thumb, then trailed his hand slowly down her face, cupping her cheek for a brief moment and letting go.

"But am I your enemy too, Hermione? Am I?" His voice was a whisper and she shivered in emotion, wishing for the feel of his hand on her face again. It was so warm. "Please, tell me the truth. Or am I just a little bit of entertainment for the summer so you can go back in the fall and say you tricked Draco Malfoy into falling in love with you?" Now she could tell he was joking.

"Falling…in love with you…" She shook her head, getting the silly ideas out of her mind. "I'm thinking that's you're plan actually, Draco—to fool me and tell Harry and Ron so they'll hate me. It seems like something you'd do." Her voice was serious and eyes full of sorrow.

His eyes bore into hers, a twinkle of hurt within the depths. "People change, Hermione—even Malfoys do. But that's kind of out there, isn't it?" He gave a sad chuckle. "I guess I can't blame you, or change your mind. Huh." Hermione was about to argue, tell him he was wrong, when the food came and the girl asked for the money. She handed her the crumpled cash and Draco grabbed one tray, she the other. Walking in back of him, Hermione wished for the world to take back what she said, to get another chance. But knowing Draco that would most likely never happen.

When they arrived back to the group, the teenagers pretty much tackled them, reaching for their food and drink. Hermione sighed heavily when they all went back to their seats and started chatting once more, munching on chips as well. Being the friend she is, Emily motioned for her to come over, pointing at two other seats by her and George. Taking the invitation, she sat down and started joining their conversation on the movie Signs, how it was scary to the girls and 'Fucking awesome!' to the boys. Draco quickly took the space next to her, leaning over to listen with curiosity. She made a mental note to tell him about different types of movies…if he'd ever talk to her again.

About another thirty minutes passed, then all the guys demanded a rematch from Draco. Relenting, he did so—only to beat them at a higher score than before: ninty-eight. It was around four when they were finished and by then the girls were all whining to get out of there, that they needed to do some chore at home or that the bowling ally was just plainly getting boring. "Alright! Alright! We'll leave, sheesh," Raymond laughed. He turned back to Draco who was leaning against the table next to Hermione. "Hey, you know this isn't over right? We're going to have another go at this—no one's better than the master!" Now everyone laughed, making cracks on how he was anything but a pro.

"Well, I guess I'm going home as well," Hermione said. "Who's taking me?" she asked.

Before the others could answer, Draco said, "I am." They split up once more, Hermione and Draco in his car and the other eight in the van. Starting up the mustang, he pulled out and asked, "So…where's your house?" And that's pretty much how the conversation went, Hermione telling directions and Draco asking how long to follow the road and such. When they finally reached it, the two Hogwarts students sat in silence, Draco gripping the steering wheel and Hermione looking down at her lap, not wanting to get out; she had to apologize for her stupidity. Taking a deep breath, she began—but was once again cut off by Draco.

"It's my fault, Hermione. And you're right: it is another damn rude thing I'd do for a cruel laugh. I can't blame you for that either." He turned towards her, his eyes searching hers. "And you're also right about us. We shouldn't be like this, it's too dangerous; people will talk, we'll loose our reputations. It'd be better if we left each other alone."

"But I don't want to!" she quickly cried. "You asked if I was your enemy, too. And…I decided I'm not." Hermione watched his lips turn up in a grin—then just as quickly turn back down, not wanting to show his relief. She smiled as well. "People _do_ change, I was just too afraid I guess, too afraid of the thought of having feelings…" At the last second Hermione stopped herself from saying "for you." Blushing, she looked away, too embarrassed to look him strait in the face. "So I want to be your friend, Draco, no matter what the others think. To hell with them if they don't approve. That's their problem."

Draco touched her hand, making her look at him. "You don't mean that, Hermione, at least not all of it," he said. "Because I don't. Yeah, I want to be your friend more than anything—I don't have any true ones. But I can't loose my reputation, and you can't either. If they go to hell when we're found together, they'll drag us down as well. As much as I want to, we can't be seen with each other at school. So…we'll have to enjoy this one summer. And God, do I plan to. I—I need you in my life, Hermione. I need you."

"Draco—"But then his lips were on hers in a passionate, forceful kiss. Taken by surprise, Hermione tried to move back but his hand was on her neck, pushing her closer to him despite the seat belts. She had only kissed one other man, and that had been Krum back in her fourth year. And boy was it nothing like this. "Draco," she breathed again when they finally broke apart, the need for air urgent. "Draco, please…"

A soft moan was her only reply, his face fit perfectly in the crook of her neck. "You're so beautiful, Herm," he whispered, biting on the soft flesh. "Now go." Still he didn't make a move to let go of her at the least, only began stroking her hair lovingly and the other hand gripping her thigh. "Damnit! Leave already!" he growled, pinching the soft flesh on her leg hard enough to make her yelp a little but not break the skin.

"I…I don't want to." Hermione burrowed her head deeper into his chest, breathing in his close sent. "Don't make me get out."

"You've got to," he hissed, only this time giving her a little shove. "I might do something we'll both regret in the long run."

The authority in his voice caught Hermione off gaurd and she pushed back a bit to look him in the face. His eyes were glazed over and she bit her bottom lip. "Fine," she whispered but only held out her palm. "But first give me pen and paper--you need my number." He complied and leaned over the Gryffindor and rummaged through the glove compartment. Draco found the material and thrust in with a bit more force than need into her hands. She scribbled down her name and then her house phone number. Smiling, she handed them back to the man and they locked eyes one last time. She smiled to his stern face that held no emotion it seemed and touched his cheek breifly before exiting out of the car without another word. She jogged up the driveway and then up the stairs before opening the door, never looking back.

No one was home yet and the house was dark. Hermione shut the front door and then leaned against it, sliding down to the floor. She sighed deeply and tried to get her thoughts in order. Had that just happened? Had the famous Draco Malfoy just done _that_ to her? It seemed impossible, yet excited her more than words.

But then she remembered their conversation and a tear ran down her face. Harry and Ron hated the Slytherin's guts...and she was suppose to as well. Sighing, Hermione stared up at the ceiling and let the tears flow freely. This summer would be the only one they would get to learn about one another and then, it was back to lustful hate.

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	4. He's Escaped

**Author's Note: Hey, everybody! Here's a new chappy fer ya! Tell me whatcha think about it, okay?**

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**Muggle World**

**Chapter 4:**

**He's Escaped**

Draco lay on one of the queen-sized bed in the Holiday Inn suite. It was 11 o'clock a.m. but he was still dead asleep; not a big surprise, seeing as he was up till three that night, fantasizing about Hermione and their heated moment. The hotel room door opened and Draco groaned at the slam of it shutting, flipping over so the sheets tangled around his body.

The annoying tapping of heels against marble ground began to drag him out of slumber. Then a sad voice was whispering next to him, calling his name to wake up. Draco groaned again, burying his face under the comforter; he wasn't ready to leave his peaceful sleep for reality. "Go away, Mother—lemme rest for another hour..."

"No, Draco!" Narcissa whimpered. "Son, look, damn it! Just look at the stupid paper, please!" The covers were ripped off his body and the blonde roared in anger, cool air rushed over him, replacing the body warmth--dark as replaced with blinding light from the sliding screen door. He blinked several times, letting his vision clear from sleep's have. The 17-year-old boy sat up on the bed and glowered down at the woman kneeling at the front, clutching a newspaper in her hands. "He's escaped." She thrust the paper into his arms and starred at his through anxious eyes. Draco frowned and looked down at the paper.

First thing he noticed was it was the _Daily Prophet_, the Wizarding newspaper—and the second was his father had made the front cover: A black and white picture of Lucius Malfoy, looking grim in a prison uniform, was moving at the bottom right hand corner, a title about it reading, "Death Eater Malfoy escapes." Draco hurried on to read the article below:

_Around 12 o'clock midnight (June 21, 06), Lucius Malfoy, one of many Death Eaters caught, escaped Azkaban Prison with two allies from his cell, 277. One auror was killed in the process, another injured, ending with third degree burns on his arm and side. He is currently being cared for in St. Mungo's Hospital; he is most defiantly going to live and be back on the job in just a few weeks._

_Rumor has it that a small band of Dementors, three suspected, were involved with this departure, helping with opening the cell along with receiving back their wands. All Dementors are being held tight for now, not being allowed to guard Azkaban until everything has been settled (maybe not even then)._

_The Ministry of Magic has been on the case since the first second it happened and is on the trail right this moment, going the whole distance on any slither of a hint on Malfoy's rout. When asked for a report, none of the members would comment; only former auror Alastor Moody replied, "No comment—except that the bastard wont get away. He's too much of a resource of You-Know-Who and we don't plan to give up easily. We're giving this our whole body and mind." No information on the ordeal with Malfoy, but at least it gives us the confidence that the Ministry has a loyal workforce. Hope is strong in our light and dark._

_No contact has made with Lucius's family, Death Eater Narcissa, his wife, and then his 7th year student at Hogwarts son, Draco. Owls have been dispatched to their manor, but no responses reported. When aurors were sent after then, the place was deserted; only a house elf was found and it would not answer to questioning. It is possible that Lucius has already reached them and they had fled. Or the two had already abandoned the house for shelter with You-Know-Who. There are a million guesses, but no one knows for sure. Still we are trying to find them._

_Lucius Malfoy could be anywhere out there—either in our Wizarding world or the Muggles. So therefore we are giving out a warning—this man is dangerous; stay indoors at most times with doors and windows securely locked. If you cannot stay in, be on your guard! Hopefully he will be caught soon, but there's no reason to risk anyone's life._

_--Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet publisher_

"Shit!" Draco sprang out of the bed, only a pair of black boxers clothing him, and began pacing around the room, his feet tingling with cold from marble against bare skin. So his father has escaped, causing a huge uproar in the Wizarding World…Was he really searching for them? And what would he do if he figured out they were in the Muggling World, on their own free will? Draco absently reached up and stroked a thin, long scar running along his left shoulder. He had received this mark a couple years back, when Lucius had came back to the Malfoy Manor after a meeting with the Dark Lord. Obviously it didn't go so well, for he was drinker than Hell and angrier than a starved serpent.

First he'd barked at Narcissa to bring out a bottle of their strongest wine then started on Draco. He doesn't remember what he said or did for it, but it pissed him off ever further and the next thing he knows Lucius had taken out his wand and yelled a spell directly at him. Thankfully because of all the drinking, his father's words were slurred and jumbled, causing the curse's effect to weaken. Still, it left a huge, bloody gash trailing down his shoulder, digging deep to the bone. That night Draco had run away, leaving to treat his wounds alone and giving time for Lucius to calm down.

The scar, even though faded, reminded him all the time on what his father could do to them. Fear weld into him: he couldn't let that jerk do that again; he wasn't going to let that bastard hurt his mother emotionally and him physically again. But what could he, a mere teenager, do about it? Nothing. Draco's shoulders sagged and he dropped into a near by chair, burying his face in his hands. "What are we gonna do?" he moaned.

Narcissa still stood there, but she spoke, her voice squeaking with fear. "We've got to find him, Draco—we have to take him back under our wings and go back to life—"

"I don't want to go back to that damn life!" the Slytherin burst, shooting his mother a glare. "God damn it, I was tiered of him and I know you were too! You might not admit it, but with him gone, we had a chance to be free; you and me both wanted that more than anything else, even though we were both raised on the Dark Side. Give it up, Mother, you were glade for a break. But the thing is…" Draco looked away. "I don't think I'm ready to go back to that fucking war. I'm just now getting my feeling straight, understanding the world around me—the _whole_ world. And I'm not done exploring yet."

Sniffing, the woman rubbed her nose and said, "I know… But we can't, son, and you know it. He'd find us no matter what…" Yeah, even as much as he wanted to disagree, Draco knew she was right: the man wouldn't stop till he won. "So I guess this is the deal right here: We did not have this conversation, okay? We were not talking about your father like this; we were rejoicing about his freedom and couldn't wait to see him again. And that's why we're leaving today, going back to the Dark Lord. I'm sure he's there with him, telling any gossip he got in the prison…" She continued to gabber on like that and walked to the closet, pulling out four large suitcases. Draco watched as she started taking clothes off hangers and folding them into the bags, then started on the drawers next to the queen-sized beds. He couldn't believe it—were they actually leaving just to go back to that Hellhole, just to be beaten for their "retarded stupidity"?

And then Hermione popped in his head. A strong yet unfamiliar emotion stirred in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want to leave her—not like this! The kiss last night… As much as he wanted to throw it away, Draco couldn't help but think about it: how sweet and innocent it was, how free and willing. It wasn't like Pansy or any of the other Slytherin sluts. This was full of something he couldn't explain…

For some reason it made him want to cry.

Standing up, Draco grabbed some cloths and his wallet, put them on and then cleared his throat to get his mother's attention. Narcissa looked up from packing her son's shorts, starring at his in question. "Mum, you've met some people around here, haven't you?" She slowly nodded her head. "Well…so have I. And I can't just leave without saying goodbye because…that wouldn't be fair when I see them at Hogwarts in the fall and treat them like shit again.

Narcissa gasped. "Are you telling me you've befriended an enemy? Who is it, a Ravenclaw—no, a Gryffindor! Please say that's a lie, Draco!" He didn't answer, only looked at the floor. A thought grabbed the woman's mind: "It isn't that Potter boy who lives around here?"

"For God's sake, no!" Draco bellowed, shocked that she'd even think that. "I'd never befriend the 'One-Who-Lived'! I would never even like the bitch who has caused the Dark Side so much trouble!" Then Hermione popped back in his head. Wasn't she Potter's best friend? Shit, that was no better than he himself. Draco heaved a heavy sigh then started walking towards the door. "What I'm trying to say, Mother, is that we should both say our good-byes to everyone; it only seems respectful, right?" He opened the door a crack and looked at his mother one more time. "I think Father can last for a couple more hours. We'll meet up back here, okay? Then we'll leave." Draco nodded at Narcissa and exited the suite. He groaned loudly and ran his hand through his blonde hair. What was he going to say to Hermione…?

The Slytherin shuffled his way down to the first floor and found a pay phone in the lobby. Reaching into his back pocket, Draco brought out a piece of paper with Hermione's number scribbled on it; last night he'd spent around ten minutes writing the phone number down and stuffing it in every pants pocket he owned. Yeah, some might think he was some kind of a stocker—but it wasn't that, he was just afraid of loosing it. Draco studied the phone for a moment, trying to understand how to use it without completely looking like an idiot. Once he finally thought he understood, Draco punched in the numbers and awkwardly put the receiver to his ear.

After the first ring, there was a click then a voice barked, "Hello!"

He was taken aback. "H—Hermione?"

--

"Draco!" she breathed, sighing in relief. "God, I thought maybe…" Actually, she did know what she thought might have happened. When she'd first woke up at seven o'clock a.m. and read the _Daily Prophet_ that was delivered, she had freaked and waited by the phone in the kitchen ever since, praying that the Slytherin would call. "I'm, well, just glad you called; that article in the paper freaked me out a bit."

A sad chuckle came from the other end. "Yeah, I'm still alive. But…" An uncomfortable silence. "Do you think that I could come pick you up? I need to…say good bye."

Hermione choked down a cry. So he was leaving! And they'd only began to understand each other for a day. "Um, yeah, sure…I'll be ready. Remember where I live?"

"How could I forget," she heard him mumble under his breath and her heart flipped. "Yeah, I'll be right there. See ya soon."

"See you soon," she whispered back. Then there was a click and the line went dead. Hermione hung up as well and banged her head against the kitchen counter numerous times. "No, no, no!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. "How could this be happening—and right after last night!" The Gryffindor abruptly stood up, knocking the stool she had sat in toppling down. She didn't even bother picking it up and ran to her room where she quickly changed out of her pajamas and into the closest thing she found—a pair of light jeans that were ripped at the knees and a baggy T-shirt with the logan "Hoot" on it; she usually wore it as a night shirt, but there wasn't enough time to worry about looks! She just needed to know what was going on with Draco and his father. Running a hairbrush roughly through her hair and slipping on some plain blue sandals, she rushed downstairs and then out to the front where she flopped down on the porch. Tapping her foot nervously and looking anxiously down the street, waiting for Draco to pull up and explain everything!

About fifteen minutes later the green convertible mustang stopped at the curb of her house and Hermione bounded down the steps and entered the car, slamming the door with more force than she expected. Then they were staring at each other, gray-blue eyes on chocolate brown. "Hermione…" Draco murmured and looked back at the steering wheel. "No, no it's Granger again, isn't it?" He sighed and started the car back up again. Hermione's heart sank. "Let's go somewhere we can talk…where we can work this all out to a reasonable place."

The ride seemed to go on forever in a dead, uncomfortable silence; Hermione had no clue where they were heading and didn't care. All she wanted was to rewind time back to last night and freeze it right there to live in that precious moment the rest of her life. But that wasn't going to happen; no, this was going to be their last time together where they don't kill one another with their insults. They would have to go back to hating each other…but could she do that, after those few brief 'dates'? It was pure Heaven she had to admit. And God, would it be hard for her to just get up and forget!

Hermione was jolted out of her thoughts when Draco stopped in a parking lot and turned off the engine. "Come on," he said and exited the car, the Gryffindor doing the same. Closing the door, she noticed that they were right by a Denny's restaurant. Draco started striding its way and so she followed like a lost puppy. They entered and were immediately seated in a booth at the back. They were given two menus and then left alone to pick their choosing. Hermione started flipping through the little booklet, but Draco only starred at her, making her feel uncomfortable and finally look up at him. "So," he spoke, "this is the end, I guess."

"Wow," the Gryffindor snapped, "nice way to put it." Hurt and anger filled her eyes, like a captured animal. "Is that all you wanted to say, _Malfoy? _That all we had was a fling and that now that you got the filthy mudblood to kiss you you're ready to move on with your life and go back to your damned Death Eater pals? Well, fine then. Just leave. There was really no need to come out here and tell me this—"

"Damn it, Hermione, that's not what I meant!" Draco cried in anguish. "I mean, yeah it is, but only half! Believe it or not, I'm not that much of a bastard as you think." The girl on the opposite side of the booth didn't say a word, only looked absently down at the menus, her arms resting on her lap. With her hair hanging limply over her shoulders the way she usually wore it and the baggy T-shirt covering up her beautiful form, Draco couldn't help but think she looked hotter than yesterday, probably because this was their last time…

Sniffing, she nodded and looked up into his one-of-a-kind eyes that now set her off. "Alright…please continue. And I'm sorry."

Draco nodded too, mumbling a, "No problem." Clearing his throat, he started again. "Narcissa and I, we came here because…well, just because we could. I guess we were looking for something new, something that we'd never think about with Father there to tell us no." Once more their eyes meet, Draco quickly looking away. "You've read the _Daily Prophet_, right? The article about my father escaping Azkaban? Well, that's why I can't stay here anymore, Hermione—Narcissa and I need to get back to the Wizarding World before he comes here and finds us; it'd be Hell if Lucius found out we were here just because."

The girl shifted restlessly in her seat. "So, you're telling me that you don't want to go back to him?"

"Yeah. You don't know what it's like living with him, being forced to join the Dark Lord…" Hermione literately started cracking up, a booming laugh out of nowhere; Draco's eyes widened in alarm. "Are—are you there, Herm? What's so funny!"

Hermione finally calmed down enough to where it was just small burst of giggles slipping off her lips. "I'm sorry, Draco—but it sounded like you said you were _forced_ to join the Dark Side! I mean come on, it's your will, your choice! No fucking father can make you join a side on war."

Draco frowned, the corner of his mouth twitching in frustration. "Actually," he growled, causing Hermione to instantly stop giggling, "I _didn't_ have a choice. My father is one of the most powerful Death Eaters the Dark Lord has—do you really think that I could stand up to him? Would you? No! Because you wouldn't survive if you opposed him. _I didn't have a chance against him,_ all right? And you know it." Tears were beginning to fill the corners of Draco's eyes but he quickly batted them away, blinking several times. "Both my mum and me were so happy to have him in jail—we were finally free. It was Heaven…but now we have to go back to Hell. The last thing I suspected was for Lucius to escape from Azkaban. But then again, I guess it doesn't surprise me, seeing as the Dementors are followers of the Dark Lord…"

An uncomfortable silence fell about them for the millionth time. Clearing her throat, Hermione finally squeaked, "You're right." Draco blinked at her. What? "You're right, this is the end. And as well should be. This isn't right—this is too weird to actually be true."

"Hermione, what are you talking about—?"

"It's not Hermione anymore, remember?" she spat, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm Granger, and you are Malfoy." A sick laugh rolled off her lips. "How stupid I was, to think that I could possibly like a Malfoy! A_ Malfoy_, for God's sake! And you—what were you even thinking! Sure, I can understand _me_ acting in such away; my love life sucks, and I guess I was just looking for some entertainment. But you, I just don't get it! A pureblood with girls hanging off him and money over flowing his wallet decides he wants to mysteriously start hang out with a filthy mudblood who's known to be the ugly bookworm and is indeed his arch enemy's best friend."

"Okay, now wait a minute!" Draco's voice raised a notch, causing the hair on Hermione's arms to rise. "So you still think I'm a jack ass, huh? Well…damn…I don't know!" He banged his head on the table, causing the salt- and peppershakers to bounce once and topple on their sides, spilling some of their contents. Out of natural reflex, Hermione stood the shakers up again and swept the mess off the ground with her hand and let it drop to the floor. "Sorry," he mumbled, head still on the table, his sexy blonde hair the only thing visible to Hermione. "It's just that I…damn it…I don't know…"

"It's okay, it's fine," the Gryffindor said quickly, before he could go and do that little charade once more. "Listen, I'm not really in the mood for this, urm, Malfoy. I understand, okay? We don't have to explain anything; we can just for get everything, right! I mean, tomorrow I'll probably just wake up like usual and think it was a bad dream!" She intended it as a joke, but Draco frowned. "Look, let's just forget it. Can you take me home now then? I'd kinda like to rest a little bit, get this whole nasty thing off my back and all—"

"Is that what you think of it?" Draco asked, somewhat between hurt and amused. "Nasty and a bad dream?" He was about to say that he didn't think it either one, but quickly caught her eye. _Oh_, the boy thought, now understanding,_ she's already starting to go back to normal…_ Even though the Slytherin was cringing inside, he nodded. "You know what, you're right. Okay, I'll bring ya home. Sure you don't want to eat something first? I've got some money on me."

"No, no. I'm fine, thank you. I'll just have an ego when I get home." She smiled a nervous smile and stood up, Draco doing the same. "Well then, how about on the way back to drop me off, we go over the rules on what we'll do if we see each other with our friends around." The 17-year-old boy agreed.

When they were passing by the counter, the woman who sat everyone made an awkward coughing sound, making the two turn around towards her. "Urm, sorry, but have you guys already eaten yet? I don't remember ever remember receiving an order for you…"

Draco grinned and reached into his back pocket where he pulled out his wallet. "Oh, yeah, sorry about that—I thought we were gonna have breakfast while talking but I guess that turned around, huh?" He chuckled softly and handed her a twenty-dollar bill. "Again, sorry that we took up space here—I hope that can make up for it."

The cashier looked shock and nodded her head vigorously, clutching the money tightly in her hand. "Y—yes, sir. Thank you very much and have a wonderful day, the both of you."

"Thanks, ma'am, and same to you." He flashed a heart-melting smile—one that Hermione would miss dearly—and exited the Denny's restaurant, Hermione right behind him. They got into the mustang once more, Draco starting it up and pulling out of the parking lot and in to the highway. After a few moments of quiet, Draco said, "Are you gonna start about these "rules" or what, Granger? We don't have much time 'cause I've got to get back to my hotel and leave soon.

"Um, sure," Hermione squeaked. "So, uh, we should probably try to avoid each other as best we can," she countered.

"Well, duh! Kinda figured that out on my own, thanks, Captain Obvious."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at this; for some reason she was beginning to love the rude sense of humor that she'd hated only a month ago. "But now we've got to figure out what we'll do if we're caught up with each other again, if your group and mine start a fight or something like that."

Draco snorted. "Here's an idea: we just totally don't let this get in the way. Like you said, we'll wake up and think it's a bad nightmare. End of story, okay? There's no reason we should be acting like it's some sort of crime we're covering up."

Blinking, the brown head asked, "Will you be able to do that?"

"Do what?" he said, oblivious to the question.

"You know, forget that this whole ordeal happened." Truthfully she wasn't sure if she'd be able to. That kiss…she couldn't get it out of her head! "Would you be able to do that?"

A pause filled the car for a second, Hermione hoping against hope that he'd say no. Then his answer came out dry: "Yes."

"Oh." She felt her jaw go lower than before, if that was possible, but then just as quickly brought it up. "Okay, then I think I can too. So we'll totally just forget about this, right? Then there's no problem and our friends don't have to suspicious or anything. "Well then…I thought we'd put up more boundaries, but your simple one rule seems to cover it all, doesn't it?"

He flashed her a smirk. "I can be pretty brilliant when I want to be." There was once more silence in the car (A/N: dude, have you realized that it's always an awkward silence in the car, nowhere else? Lol) and that's how it went on till they reached her house. The two sat there, not knowing what to do next.

"So…" Hermione broke the quiet, clearing her throat. "Well, I guess this is the end, isn't it."

"Yeah." Then she felt a cool, soft hand cup her cheek; turning around, Hermione locked eyes with Draco. "See ya later, then," he muttered, and his lips captured hers in a passionate, sweet kiss. It wasn't like the one from last night, but gentle and loving, heart-warming. All too soon it was over, and they stayed close to one another, catching their breath.

The Gryffindor gave a small chuckle and said, "Hey, Draco?" A grunt. Next thing he knows her hand comes smacking across his face, stinking his right side.

"WHAT THE BLOODLY HELL WAS THAT!" he growled angrily, clutching his cheek that was quickly blotching red from the impact.

Still Hermione only giggled and opened the door. Stepping out, she whispered barely automobile, "That's what ya get, Ferret. Don't even _think_ about doing that again." And then she was off, shutting the door behind her and bounding up the stairs to her house, never looking back.

When she entered the house and closed the front door behind her, Draco leaned back in his seat, grinning despite the pain. She had spunk to her that he found hard to resist. He rested like that for a moment or two, not wanting to go back to the suite. But he knew he had to so he started back up towards it, bracing himself to enter Hell once again.

* * *

**Author's Note: So! What do you think! Yeah, I know that I suck for spliting them up Don'tcha just hate me! lol! But do you really think that they're really gonna stay like that? I mean, it's a romance story! What would I be to leave it alone like that! God, am I really that bad! lol.**

**I love y'alls!Please review!Muah!**

**Peasant**


	5. Have To Move On

**Muggle World**

**Chapter Five:**

**Have To Move On**

For two days Hermione had gone nowhere. She'd go to bed extra early—only to wake up extra _late_. And when she did, she'd just lye there, remembering the escape…the goodbye. Emily had called numerous times, only for Hermione to turn down the invitation by saying, truthfully, that she wasn't up to it.

Emily had sighed the third time she called trying to convince her. "It's Drake, isn't it?" Hermione didn't answer; just bit her bottom lip hard and stared at the refrigerator from where she sat at the kitchen's bar table, phone pressed tightly to her ear. "So it is, huh. What did he do, Herm? C'mon, please just tell me! Oh, did he turn you down? 'Cause girl, if he did I'll send my boy out to kill him for flirting so much—"

"No, no, Em," Hermione had said warily, fiddling with a strand of hair. "It's nothing he did. His father just came back and they had to leave… And I'm just kinda—"

"Kind of depressed," her friend finished. "I'm sorry to hear that, 'Mione. I really am." A pause. "But wont you be able to see him again at school this year? I mean, back in America?"

"But that's just it!" Hermione had cried. "We're _not suppose_ to get along—my best friend is his mortal enemy!"

"Huh? His what? Who?"

Frustrated, she huffed loudly. "It's a long story, Emily; and I'm not in the mood to explain. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow, okay? Byes." She hung up the line quickly before the gossiping girl could protest once more.

And now she lay awake in her bed, watching her alarm clock with dreary eyes; the neon red lights glared _10:47 A.M._ Knowing she had better feed her growling stomach, Hermione staggered out of bed, not minding to make it like usual, and walked downstairs to the kitchen still in her PJs. She took out all the necessities needed for a bowl of cereal, then trudged lazily over to the table where a note lay in the spot she all ways sat at. Courious, Hermione picked up the note with her mother's scribbling on it:

_Dear Hermione,_

_I'm afraid I'll have to stay late at work tonight; we've got a rough case here at the office and the boss asked that I stay a little late. Sorry! Hopefully I will be home by 8 o'clock at the latest. Dad wont be home until late as well. Like you know, he's got a bowling game._

_If you go anywhere, please leave a note with whom and where._

_Be safe and careful._

_Love,_

_Mom_

Hermione nodded, placing the leaflet back on the table and proceeded to make her late breakfast. She finished it up by gulping down the Cheerio-flavored milk with a loud smack. The Gryffindor, not knowing what to do, changed into some shorts and a plain white tank top before going back downstairs again and heading into the backyard.

Feeling like crap like yesterday, the teen-aged girl limped slowly to the middle of her yard, passing their small family garden and the baby Dog Wood tree her mother had planted just that spring. When she reached the middle of the freshly mowed lawn, Hermione stared blankly ahead at the old, graying wood of their fence before dropping to her knees. She then carelessly fell flat on her stomach, right cheek pressed against the ground. The lush, cool grass felt good against her tense skin along with the hot summer sun beating against her back, making her relax somewhat.

'What have I gotten into?' she thought, eyes half lidded and looking out across the sea of green. 'What are these feelings? I'm…sad— and for _Draco Malfoy,_ non of the lease!' Crossed emotions washed over her mind, causing Hermione to groan in confusion and stress. Why the heck was she thinking things like this!

After a while thoughts became blurry. Crockshanks, who'd been hanging around smacking jittery grasshoppers since early morning, trotted over to his distressed master and walked straight on her back. The cat's motorous purr vibrated all the way through Hermione's body and his extra weight pushed her further down; she found this as an act of love and comfort—two things she desperately needed right then. Some how cats always knew when their owners needed their care and support.

Without meaning to, the Gryffindor drifted into a soft slumber in her own backyard.

The feel of lost weight woke Hermione and her eyes slowly fluttered open to see she had actually accidentally fallen asleep in her backyard without realizing it. In the distance she heard the phone ringing inside and her cat playing to her left with who knows what—probably just a blade of grass. 'I've gotta get up,' the Gryffindor told herself, her body not wanting to obey. 'It's most likely Mom checking in; I don't want her thinking something went wrong and come back for no reason.' Before her body decided to ignore her will, Hermoine abruptly stood up.

Immediately she felt the blood rush to her head and the painful crook in the side of her neck she had recieved from the awkward position she had been in for who knows how long. Trying to ignore it, Hermione rushed back into the house and picked up to kitchen phone (the closest one available). "Hello?" she answered, her breathing a bit ragged.

"Hermione?" came Emily's reply. Hermione mentally kicked herself; she really didn't feel like talking to her right then. Curse. "Where have you been, girl? I've called two times now!"

The Gryffindor looked over at the oven clock and saw it shine _1:43._ She groaned out loud. 'How did I manage that?' "You have? Oops. Sorry, Em, I guess I kinda fell asleep out side," Hermione chuckled. "So what do you want?"

"No problem," the muggle answered, "the girls and I were just wondering if you'd like to hang out with us today. I know you have it tough and all at the moment. But…maybe we could talk about it, ya know? Besides, you shouldn't be cooping yourself up like this—its not healthy."

"Emily, I've only been home for two days now," Hermione said, smiling slightly into the phone; it was good to know her friend cared about her well being. "I am _not_ cooping myself up, don't worry. It's just that I need some time alone; everybody does every once and a while. But anyway, I'd need you to come pick me up for me to go anywhere. Where are you guys?"

"Just hanging around the mall strip," came the reply. "And I'm sure that we could come pick you up—Raymond understands your situation and is offering to help at any measures."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Wait—you told everyone about this? Why! Em, I trusted you to keep it a secret!"

"You never said anything about it being a secret!" Emily cried back. "You never said I couldn't tell anyone!"

The Gryffindor frowned into the mouthpiece. She was right—she never did say anything along those lines… "Well, I was just hoping that you would think that." A muttered sorry came from the other end and Hermione sighed. "No problem—it wasn't your fault, but mine. I shouldn't be complaining."

"So you're not mad?" Emily asked in a weak voice. It was obvious she felt as though she had betrayed her.

"No," she lied. "Besides, they're my friends. They have every right to know, right?"

"Yeah, right!" Emily chirped gleefully. "Well, anyways, back to the topic. If we can give you a ride, you'll come and hang out with us all? Just another shopping day is all—but not as big as the first." They both giggled. "We're also going to the park to chill I think…"

Hermione thought about it for a moment, knowing that she really didn't want to but didn't want to hurt Emily's feelings, let her down. "Urm, sure. When are you gonna come pick me up?"

"So you're going to come!" Emily practically yelled. Hermione laughed when the girl took the phone away from her mouth and shouted to the others, "Hey, guys! Herm's gonna come and hang with us!" Then there were cheers and happy comments that she knew came from the boys and girls of the group. She smiled. Then Emily got back to her and said, "Okay, Raymond and I are gonna come over now. The others will wait at Marlin Arcade so we'll have to hurry. Be ready when we get there, alright?"

"Yeah, okay. See you then, Em. Byes." Hermione hung up, grinning but not wanting to go anywhere, really. She still felt like being a hermit, a specialty of hers. But knowing that she'd better do as told, Hermione stood up from the stool she had settled onto while talking and ran up stairs to the bathroom across from her room. She took a hair brush and scooped her hair into a decent bun, put on a tad of make-up and lotion on her legs and hands then slipped on some blue flip flops decorated with a cute swirling design. Going back to her room, Hermione looked in her full-length mirror to make sure that she looked presentable: good enough.

She then rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a spiral notebook; flipping towards the middle where she found no writing, Hermione tore out a piece of paper and scribbled a note to her parents, explaining where and whom she was with. She then opened up her sock drawer and took out a good bit of the saved money she kept hidden away. Rushing back down stairs, the Gryffindor placed the note on the table next to the one her mother had left, then went outside and sat on her porch. She only waited for about a minute before she saw the beaten van rumble up to her house.

Jogging over to the large hunk of metal, she was once again greeted with the slide-out door fling aside to revel Cecil's grinning face. "Hey, Hermione!" Emily's head turned to face her from the shotgun seat, smiling brightly at her. "Glad you came. Hop in—the others are waiting." Doing as told, Hermione climbed into the back, which she now realized was spacious, now that it was practically empty of crazy teenagers.

Cecil closed the door and took a seat next to Hermione and they were off, the vehicle lurching to a start. Right off the bat Ceil begins to chat—and of course it had to be the topic she currently trying to take off her mind.

"So what's this thing with Drake? Em said he moved. Were to? Was it because of a fight or did something—"

"Look, I kinda don't want to talk about it right now," Hermione sighed, a bit taken aback by Ceil's sudden out burst. "All I want is to have a little fun, ya know?" A moment of silence. And then, "What did you guys do without me yesterday?"

"Oh, it was fun," Emily said from the front, quickly adding, "but not as much without you of course." They all laughed. "First we went to this small café at the end of the Street; Sarah's aunt owns it. It's a cute little place—you'll have to come with next time. But what's even better are the free doughnuts!" Again everyone laughed and agreed. "We were there for quite sometime until Sarah's aunt shooed us out 'cause the place was getting too crowded.

"Anyway, then we started wondering around again. Brook had to go back to Rue21 to return some shirt that didn't fit, and—"

"And oh, my God and you'd never believe what a cashier asked!" Cecil shouted so loudly Hermione visibly flinched. "Oh, gosh, it was so sweet! I'm not sure if you knew or not, but this one guy that works there asked where you were when we were checking out, and then about Drake. Being the honest one I am"—everyone snorted at this—"I said that you weren't going out and that he had moved back to America. The boy—whose name is Brandon, by the way—said that he wished to see you again. Oh, oh! And he's gonna be working today as well, I think; we should so go back today and hook you two up!"

As Hermione just sat there dumbfound, Raymond laughed heartily. "Wow, Cecil. Let's just go on and play the "Get Brandon and Hermione Together" game!" Emily now joined in laughing with her boyfriend and Hermione kicked her seat from behind, making her knee throb a little from the hard impact. "Wow, Cecil—just wow."

"Don't I have any say in this!" Hermione cried. "Who ever said I wanted a boyfriend right now anyway?" They just loved taking advantage of her, didn't they? As if she were just their little toy doll.

Emily giggled and answered, "I don't know, Herm; it couldn't possibly be the time last week where you had told me you wanted a boy to hold you."

"So you do wanna boyfriend!" the girl beside her squealed causing Hermione to blush further than she already was. "This is so great. And not to mention that Brandon is a total hottie! I think that you guys would make an adorable couple." She smiled widely at the sick looking girl.

"Can we change the subject, please," Hermione squeaked, her blush growing bigger and brighter by the second. "Like what did you do after Rue21?" She saw Cecil roll her eyes and slump her shoulders in defeat. The girl was a five-year-old at heart.

Emily pondered for a second, trying to retrace their steps. "Well…you know that overly crowded park at Central? We all went up there and the guys joined some public football game with us watching—the talk naturally about you, Drake, and Brandon." Hermione groaned loudly and buried her head in her hands; her muggle best friend chuckled, knowing that was the response she would get. "Then we had to pack up 'cause Raymond's dad called saying the shop needed an extra hand around three-thirty. So it was a short day, but we had fun."

Hermione murmured a, "That's great," without looking up. The ride only lasted a couple more minutes and then they were back out in the huge parking lot they always went to. Hermione, glad to be out of that torturous van, stretched widely. It was a hot day, making loose strands of hair stick to her neck. "Okay, now where?" she asked a bit crankily.

"To the Marlin Arcade!" Cecil declared, skipping ahead and twirling round and round as she went. 'Attention hog,' the Gryffindor thought with a smile. 'She seems to be even more immature than in sixth grade.'

With it being a weekday, the Street Mall was less packed than usual. Mainly teens littered the sidewalk, for adults had work to be done at jobs. Soon Raymond, Hermione, and Emily found themselves jogging to keep up with Cecil's fast pace. "Someone's a bit hyper…" Looking to her side, Hermione grinned at Raymond and asked, "What did you feed this girl?!"

The boy laughed, almost tripping over his girlfriend's feet who was in the lead. "She claimed she hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch so she treated herself to an ice-cream cone, a large mocha, three slices of supreme pizza, and then a big Snickers bar for 'desert'," he explained.

Her eyes grew wide in astonishment. "You're kidding me!" He shook his head, a rueful smile playing on his lips. "She scarfed all that down? Gees!" Giggling, the Gryffindor yelled to the muncher, "Hey, Cecil! Don't your parents ever feed you at home or anything?" The girl glanced back at her with a silly grin, keeping her steady pace with ease. A moment later they arrived in front of an attractive setting of doors, bizarre colors and designs on the glass doors. The sign above read _MARLIN ARCADE! _in a weird format. Hermione smiled. It seemed like ages since she'd last been to this place.

Their breathing a bit ragged, the four of them entered the arcade; beeping and change slot machine sounds filled the air, their nostrils with the wonderful smell of pizza and pretzels. The place was mainly dark except the glow of game lights. Emily grabbed Raymond's hand and then Hermione's, who snatched Cecil's so they made quite a chain. "I bet I know where they are…" And then they were being dragged along, dodging game after game and kid after kid. Finally they arrived at the Dance Dance Revolution set—and there was Mary and Tyler hopping away, the others cheering them on from the sides.

They slipped right in, watching as the two danced on the pad, battling for a _WINNER!_ sign to blare on their screen and a _LOSER! _on the other's. Mary, with her slim, athletic body, seemed to be having an easier time with the fast beat than Tyler—it was fun, watching him try to keep up with the confusing jumble of steps. Not to anyone's surprise, but defiantly to their delight, Mary won. The pretty girl laughed and hugged her boyfriend who was still staring at the screen with a goofily and baffled look. They shared a light kiss and then turned towards the group.

"You finally came!" a happy Brook exclaimed. She practically tackled Hermione to the ground in a huge bear hug. Laughing, Hermoine hugged her friend back. Why did she ever think she needed time away from these guys? They always made her laugh - and forget. "It was so lonely without you here yesterday! How are you? Everything okay?"

All anxious eyes were on her, making the brown head feel uncomfortable and shift her weight slightly. "Yeah, I'm fine," she managed out. "I just needed to think was all." Hugs and the regular 'Welcome Back' routine came next - and then the problem on what to do. Grinning, Hermione looked at the Dance Dance Revolution. "Can I have a try?" she asked. Everyone turned towards her. "Who wants to play me?"

"I will!" George stepped forward, a foolish grinning plastered on his face (A/N: all the boys in this group are retarded—haven't you noticed?! lmao). They climbed up to the pad and pushed the start button. "It was my turn to go, anyway." Being the winner of the last round, Mary got to choose the song. It started out slow but gradually got faster. With it being her first time, Hermione felt a little like a robot, moving like she did to press down when the light flashed by. But with the yells and commands telling her to loosen up, she complied and boy! was it easier. It didn't seem to matter though—because George was just using this as an excuse to act stupid. When Hermione finally had enough confidence to look over at his screen, the boy was stomping around madly, 'MISS'es and 'BAD's flying all over his screen. The entire group was laughing uncontrollably at his crazy moves, calling him stupid and reckless.

Of course Hermione ended up winning that round—scoring over triple than him. Thus became the Dance Dance Revolution challenge; they spent a good hour or so on it, calling 'duels' on one another. It turned out that Hermione was pretty good at this new game. Of course, she couldn't possibly beat the queen, Mary—no one could so far. Even a passerby who challenged her! The girl was a pro.

After a while the teens became tired and plopped down at a table near the concession stand; everyone ordered a bite to eat; except for Cecil who was, by then, feeling like crap. Hermione ordered a pretzel, nibbling on it as she looked around the noisy arcade. This is what she loved, hanging around her friends with nothing to worry about. Thoughts turned to Ron and Harry, making them the inseparable Golden Trio. Their friendship always had a glitch in it, usually it being a dark force like Voldemort. But still they hung on through the hardships, not letting it break their friendship. Hermione sighed; she wanted to be around those two right now, just enjoying their silly companionship.

Without her realizing it, Hermione still had half her pretzel while the others had long ago finished theirs and had started talking about how long it would be until school began again. Hermione was shoving a large mouthful of pretzel in her mouth when Emily spoke to her. "What about you, Herm? When do you go back to America?" The Gryffindor held up a finger and then swallowed as quickly as she could.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione said, "Well, technically school starts in about two months. But usually I go to my friend's house before that. The thing is I still haven't been Owled—urm, I mean contacted about when I'll be going yet. It could be anytime now."

"Aw!" All gloomy faces turned to her. "You're leaving before the end of summer? That is so unfair. How long do you think you're gonna be here?"

Hermione shrugged, looking down at the rest of her meal, tearing it to little bits; she ate a small amount at a time, not wanting to choke again. "I don't know. It could be a day, a week—even a month." Nods. "Of course I want to go see my school friends. But…I've had a lot of fun here this summer." She looked up to meet every teen's gaze, smiling sadly. "Its so much easier here than over there." Hermione shook her head bitterly, saying the discussion was over and then busied herself with her food once more.

Soon they were back outside; it had been decided—since the teens couldn't agree—that they'd split up in groups and meet back there at three o'clock (it was already 1:00). Being boys, George, Tyler and Raymond wanted to go to some sports shop while Mary, Cecil and Sarah wanted to get their nails done (A/N: idk what girly-girls do out on the free roads! Lol I'm totally helpless when it comes to that type of thing, seeing as I am not into those things XD). That left Brook, Emily, and Hermione waving the other two groups goodbye as they went their ways.

"So…" Brook leaned against the brick building, looking at the two girls. "What do ya guys wanna do?" They both shrugged, doing the same as her and leaning against the wall. "Well, I don't know either. Any ideas?" Silence and then, "Oh, I know!" Hermione and Emily looked over at Brook who was, all of a sudden, very excited. "Brandon!" Hermione's eyes grew huge while Emily tried to suppress a giggle, nudging her old friend. "Come on!" she cried, grabbing one of each's hands and dragging them to the shop.

So tra-la-la-la-la, the three of them skipped along the sidewalk, arms linked, singing, "Weeeeeeee're _off_ to see Brandon! The wonderful Brandon of Rue21!" (A/N: LMAO! I'm just kidding! KIDDING! Lol sorry—I just had to put that in )

After a minute of being dragged around and not knowing quite which direction they were heading, the Gryffindor saw themselves aproaching the story Rue21.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks when they reached the store's doors. Emily smiled foolishly at her terrified face. Why were they there! She didn't want anything to do with this guy named Brandon! She had no clue what he was like—weren't you suppose to know the boy before you even _thought_ about dating him! "I don't want to go in there," she squeaked, trying to take a step back but Emily grabbed her arm.

"Its okay, Herm," she chided. "Hey, what about this: Brook will go in and ask for him to take a quick break while we wait here. That way you can gather some nerves, ya know?"

Hermione shook her head hard. Why didn't they just understand she didn't want anything to do with this _or_ him? Brook on the other hand squealed in delight and practically ran into the store. "Why is this happening to me?" Hermione moaned, falling to the ground.

Emily sighed heavily and pulled her back up. "Aw, c'mon, Hermione! It can't be that bad. Besides, it's not like we're forcing you guys to get together or anything."

She gave her a sideways glance. "Yeah, sure. You only dragged me over here despite my own free will and now making me confront him even though I totally don't want to." They both laughed lightly and then a comfortable silence. "But, Em…" Her eyes glazed over in nervousness again. "This just doesn't feel right… I mean, it's not like a can start a relationship right now. I could be leaving any day now!"

"Who ever said you _had_ to start a relationship?" Emily grabbed her old friend's hand, making Hermione look at her. "You're still upset about Draco, aren't you?"

Hermione quickly hung her head once more. "Its not like we were going out anyways," she muttered. "We're mortal enemies, Emily—you've got to realize that." A pause. "If Ron or Harry ever found out, living hell would break out upon us. I was foolish, letting stupid teenage hormones get to me like this. I mean, it's not like I actually _liked_ him—it was just a fling, you know? But I feel so stupid about it… I am stupid…"

"Don't you ever speak like that again," Emily snapped suddenly, causing Hermione to flinch slightly. "Look up at me, Herm—it was not your fault in the slightest bit. All it was was your feminine side kicking in for once." She laughed. "Draco is a total hottie—and you've got to admit that. It was natural, having such feeling for a cute guy like him!"

"Yeah…"

"Look, Herm, it's total natural, and you know it. Soon you'll have to completely admit that to yourself. And I think that you should keep that feminine side all the time. Didn't you say that you're tired of being the bookworm and Miss Goody-too-shoes? Give that up a little and go with instincts for once, okay? This is your first test—look, Brook's coming out. Just give Brandon a chance—please! He's really sweet; you'll just have to see for yourself. You have to move on from Draco some time or another."

Brook happily pranced out of the store and did a quick spin before facing them, a huge grin spread wide across her face. "His break is in five minutes!" she cried, causing two-thirds of the girls to cheer; the brown head fell to the sidewalk again. "Ah, c'mon! He said for us to meet him in the back corner." So they dragged a fighting Hermione in. After waiting a nervous couple minutes, a smiling, handsome boy around their age came walking towards them. He wore some plain baggy blue jeans and a striped blue-and-green Polo shirt. Tussled brown hair made his bright blue eyes stick out beautifully—and they immediately rested on Hermione's chocolate brown ones.

She blushed shyly and looked at the floor. 'I didn't know he was _this_ cute…wow…'

"Hey." His voice was deep and gentle, and just the sound of it made Hermione's heart flutter with butterflies. "I'm Brandon." He reached a hand out to her, which Hermione nervously took, managing to squeak out a 'Hey'. His hand was so warm… "And from what I've heard, you're name is Hermione, no?"

"Um, yeah," she said, finally finding the courage to look into his ocean-blue eyes; they took her breath away. "It's nice to meet you, Brandon—really."

Again with his perfect-toothed smile. "Same here." He greeted Emily and Brook, saying, "It's great to see you guys again."

"So…" It was Emily. "I'm guessing that you two want to be left alone… Well, we'll be across the store then. We will come back in thirty minutes, okay? Byes!" She then pulled Brook away from them and started walking off.

Hermione's eyes widened as they left. Why the bloody hell did she leave her at a moment like this! And with a boy she didn't even know! Oh, God… Brandon cleared his throat and she quickly looked back up at him (he was a good half a head taller than she). "Look, Hermione… I really am glad that we meet—well, you know, other than when I gave you back your change and receipt."

They both laughed at his good humor—and that was when Hermione said the stupidest thing she could have: "Yeah, but even then it wasn't technically to me: you gave it to Draco." Of course she had meant it as a joke, but then she realized her mistake. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"I've been wondering about that guy…" he muttered shyly. "He didn't like me that much, ya know. I'm not trying to be mean of course, especially since he might be your boy friend and all—"

"What!" she cried, almost laughing. "Oh, no—he's not my _boyfriend! _He's just a friend from school is all."

"Oh…" He looked away from her. "Well, not what I heard from him."

She blinked questionably at him. "Huh? Great… What did he say this time?" 'God, why is that stupid Malfoy such a jackass to me!' she thought bitterly.

"Urm…He kinda said that you were his… But then yesterday your friends came by and said differently, so I'm kind of confused…"

This time Hermione really did laugh. "Oh, my God! I am so sorry about that," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. Okay, was it just her or was she finding it easier than she thought for herself to talk to him? "Like I said before, we go to school together in America"—this gave him a shock—"and we're pretty close." Wow, that's a huge lie… "But we're only close as in friends, of course. I've never thought of him as anything else." Yet another lying point for Hermione! Keep it up girl—you're getting pretty good at this game! "He was probably just afraid for my own good, you know? In our group of friends we're really protective of one another." Okay, well, that part was true… Damn it, and I was getting into it, too!

"Ah." Brandon smiled, obviously relieved by her answer. This got a smile from Hermione as well. "Well, that's good, 'cause…" He blushed, causing Hermione to do the same. Was it just her or did he become really nervous all of a sudden? "Urm, you see…I know this is kinda rushed and all but… You're really cute and… Yeah…" He looked into her eyes with a shy smile. "I think you get my point."

Hermione didn't answer, just looked at her feet. "Thanks," she muttered. Then she remembered the situation. "But, Brandon…I—I don't think it could work out."

"Huh? Why?" he asked, becoming a bit anxious.

"Well, you see…" Where to start? Problems, problems. "For one, you know I go to school in America," she said. "So I really don't want to get into a cross continent relationship." He nodded, thinking about it for the first time. "Second, I have no clue when I'll be leaving—you see, I go over to my friend's place before the school year starts." A frown creased his handsome face, making Hermione want to fix it but knowing she couldn't. "And third…third…" She couldn't remember the third but she was _positive_ there was one… 'Damn it…' "Sorry, but I can't remember it for some reason," she laughed. "But…I really hope you understand…"

He smiled again, causing her heart to skip a beat. "Of course I understand," he said, scratching the back of his head innocently. "But, I don't want that to get in my way of getting to know you better… Please?"

She smiled at him. "I wouldn't have it any other way. I want to get to know you as well." They shared a smile, gazing into each other's eyes—but of course Brook and Emily had to come ruin their moment. "Man…were we really talking that long?" They both chuckled sadly and Hermione looked over at her two friends. "Well, it looks like I've got to be going now."

So they swapped phone numbers and e-mail addresses before Hermione had to go back with those stupid-good-moment-breakers. Grr, you could just rip their heads off!

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	6. Doesn't Surprise

**Author's Note: howdy, y'all! Be warned--this chapter is very,VERY short XD and I am very, VERY sorry about it. Please forgive my shortnessity lol.**

**Good news, though! First off, I've got half of chapter 7 done (though that's another chapter away lol), I know exactly how chapter 6 will be and guess what! I'm gonna add another "dating" chapter in soon! I just think that the whole thing when a little fast, so I'm adding another day in the Muggling world. It will take place like after chapter 3 i think...is that right? After the first kiss? (Personally I thought the second kiss was better lol. Sorry, I just got a thing with chicks slapping guys. THEY BLOODY DESIRVE IT! lol jk jk! Don't hurt me, please! I was just KIDDING!)**

**Lol anyway, enjoy this very short chapter and I hope you guys are looking forward to the future ones.**

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Chapter Six:

**Doesn't Surprise Me**

Hermione sat on a splintered stool, staring out at the sky. Ron and Harry were wrestling a little further ahead. Yes, they were at the Burrow, where they usually met up every summer before going back to school. And today was scheduled for the owls to come with their lists. Of course Hermione was eager to get the letter—she'd been out there since late dawn, skipping breakfast and never ungluing her eyes from the clear blue sky. The two seventh-year boys had come out and joined her a little after ten, sleep still in their eyes. Being the smart ass he was, Ron had commented on what a freak she was when it came to anything about Hogwarts. That's when Harry had tackled him, and they'd been going at it ever since.

But that's not the only reason Hermione sat out there—she was waiting for something else as well, another note. And the sender was from Draco Malfoy. Yeah, as much as she wanted him out of her head, she couldn't help but dream of him addressing an owl to her, telling her that he missed her touch, her laughter……

Bah! What was she thinking! Like that would ever happen—he was a Malfoy, for God's sake! 'It was just a fling,' the Gryffindor kept reminding herself. 'Remember, you were the only magic-user in that part. Not like he really thought you special or anything—I mean, get real! A_ Malfoy_!' But no matter how many times she told herself that, Hermione couldn't help but have a small amount of hope bubbling in her stomach. Ever since she'd arrived at the burrow, Draco had not once been less than a brief thought in her mind each day. He just wouldn't leave her alone!

"Hey, Herm!" The brown head was jolted out of her thoughts and back to reality where Harry was grinning at her proudly, Ron in a head lock struggling in his grip. Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "Got him for ya!"

"Lemme go!" Ron spat, trying to pry Harry's fingers off his neck. "Lemme go right now, God damnit!" Finally the-boy-who-lived let go of him and he stumbled backwards, choking in breath. "Bloody Hell, Harry," he said, grinning stupidly at his best friend. "Was it really that necessary to do that so roughly? I mean, I was just kidding with her!"

Harry went over to him and extended a hand; Ron gratefully took his offer and stood up, brushing the dirt off himself. "Well, it wasn't only for that, mate," the jet-black haired boy said. "It was also for hitting me this morning to get up, messing with my girl…oh, and don't forget just for the heck of it."

The red head punched him on the arm playfully and they both walked back to Hermione who was watching them with an easy smile playing on her lips. She loved those two, her best friends since first year. The three of them had gone though so much, she found it impossible to think of them not in her life. When they reached her, Hermione stood up and brushed off her own bottom and then spoke. "Good going you guys—I can tell you both have gotten stronger over the summer break, eh?"

The boys proudly smiled, their eyes glinting in pride. "Yeah, we have," Ron said joyfully, almost like a little kid. "Glad that you can tell. Harry and me have been working out ever since he can early this summer, right, Harry?"

"Yep." The raven-haired boy winked at her and added, "Well, I have—Ron on the other hand has usually been working his jaw mussels back in the kitchen."

Hermione laughed wildly at this and Ron scowled angrily at him. Just then, Hermione stomach growled all of the sudden, causing her to giggle even more. "Oops," she laughed, "guess the talk of food has gotten my own tummy to wake up; I haven't eaten yet this morning. Could you guys do me a favor and bring out a biscuit for your poor friend?"

"Sure, no problem!" the red head said, obviously glad to get away from the embarrassing subject. "Be right back then." He trotted away, but Harry stayed put and frowned down at his best friend.

"Why don't you just come in yourself, 'Mione? That way you could have an entire meal. I'm more than sure Mrs. Weasely would be happy to set something out," he said.

The brown head smiled up at him and shook her head. "Nah, I'm okay. Thanks, though." She chuckled lightly and noted, "You know how I am about these things. Besides, it's such a beautiful day; I'd hate to have miss a single second of it." The two Gryffindors looked back at the sky, Hermione's eyes longing.

Harry said, "Well, you should at least put on some sunscreen, you know. It's pretty hot out here today, isn't it?" Briefly placing a hand on her head, the boy started going back towards the beaten-up house as well. "I'll go get ya some from my suitcase, alright? Also a glass of water—actually two." He grinned. "I'm pretty parched as well, ya know." Hermione turned and smiled at his retreating figure; he was so caring, all ways looking out for everyone. 'Now why couldn't I fall for someone like him?' she wondered with a sad look. 'Of course he's got Ginny, but there's got to be other caring guys out there like him.' Thoughts turned to the crush she had had on Ron that had lasted for quite a few years. Once blinded by his cute, clumsy looks, Hermione had been thinking about him over the break and realized how stupid she was. All they ever did was flirt, hate each other for flirting with someone else, or make fun of one another—and usually it was the last two. They would never be together, and if they ever were it defiantly wouldn't last for long.

Sighing, Hermione gazed back up at the empty sky, hoping for an owl carrying anything to swoop down. The day seemed to go on forever, hour after hour stretching out to eternity. When Harry and Ron had came back out they'd sat there for a while with her, chatting about random things like Quidditch and the hunt for Lucius Malfoy was still full in motion, causing Hermione's heart to sink over again once more. She wished they would just shut up; it was already hard enough to keep Draco out of her head alone!

About an hour passed by before Ron became bored and wandered off. Harry soon followed, beckoning Hermione to follow as well. Hesitantly, she did as asked and the three of them ended up in the back yard of the Burrow, taking out Harry's Firebolt and another broom they found in the shed. Hermione cheered them on as they threw a ball back and forth in the air, performing different shows and skills off to the one-member audience below. But truth behold, she still wasn't completely following the "game"—her mind was still wondering off to search the sky for upcoming owls.

It wasn't till late four p.m. that finally their schedules came. Being so excited, Hermione practically tore the letter off the owl, causing it to shriek and fly off madly. She paid the two boys no mind when the stared gawking at her over reenactment. At the same time the trio—including Ginny, of course, when they called her out—ripped open the envelopes and took out their supplies list.

Something metal fell out of Hermione's and landed on the green grass.

"Huh?" The brown head reached down and plucked it up again—it was a badge with the words "Head Girl" printed on it, a lion just underneath it. She squealed in delight and everyone rushed over, congratulating and hugging her hard. This is what she'd wished forever since her first year at Hogwarts, to become Head.

When all the commotion ended, Ron spoke. "No offence, Hermione—but this doesn't surprise me. I mean, you're the smartest student in our year—someone would have to be out of their right mind not to choose ya." Hermione blinked back tears and tackled the red head boy to the ground; that had to be the nicest thing he'd ever said to her in their friendship! Usually he just made fun of her brains.

"Yeah, Herm!" everyone agreed. "We knew you'd get it all along. Congrats again!" Hermione fished through the envelope once more, coming out with the list she knew was there and then another note reading, "To Miss. Hermione Granger." She unfolded it and read the neat cursive:

_Dear Miss. Granger,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you were selected this year to become Head Girl of Hogwarts. Only two students were selected for this honor, as you very well know._

_On the Hogwarts Express, we would appreciate if you would kindly sit in the Head's compartment where you will meet your new roommate (the other Head) and be instructed further on your duties and rules by the a professor._

_We hope that the rest of your summer break goes well and that you enjoy this news._

_Sincerely yours,_

_The Hogwart's Staff_

The rest of the day Hermione felt like she was floating on air—Mrs. and Mr. Weasely were all over her (well, mainly Molly—she's pretty much like a second mom, right? Lol), crooning over how much of a big honor it was. The next day they'd go to Diagon Alley the next morning.

Hermione spoiled herself, getting extra things that she didn't need like new robes, inkbottles and quills, make-up, hair ties, some jewelry, and then she treated Crockshanks with a fuzzy toy mouse. Of course she wouldn't have been able to afford all this without the help of her parent's loving allowance she'd received for the good news on become Head and then there was Harry who insisted that he give his best friend a little reward for all her hard work building up to her dream. She hugged him tight and whispered thank you over and over in his ear and then hugged Ron who just kind of stood there looking left out.

In two more days they would be getting on the Hogwarts Express for their last year; Hermione was so eager she was practically bouncing off the wall. What would the Heads' room look like? Better yet—who was the Head Boy she had to share it with? Part of her mind couldn't help but hope it was Draco Malfoy.

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Author's Note: Don't hurt me! I know that was like extremely short! I'm sorry! Lol really, I didn't know that the stupid chapter would be this small…sorry again

Peasant


	7. You're Head Boy?

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**Muggle World**

**Chapter Seven:**

**_You're _Head Boy!**

The four students' backs faced the Hogwarts Express, taking their turns kissing and hugging Mrs. And Mr. Weasley and then shake hands with the twins who also appeared to wave them off. When George got to Harry, he pumped his hand over exaggeratedly and said, "Have a great last year, mate—all of you." He then looked over at Ginny and patted her head sympathetically. "Well, except you, sis; you've still got another year before the grown-up world." Fred started laughing and then both hugged an irritated Ginny before she stomped off to the train.

After her, the Golden Trio followed, waving good-bye to the small gathering. Hermione started walking towards the front, where she was told to go to meet the Head Boy, but Harry grabbed her arm that was holding Crockshanks' cage. She turned around to face him. "Hey, why don't you come sit with us for a bit?" the raven-haired boy asked. "You know, to catch up with old friends and all."

Hermione hesitated, wanting badly to run into the heads' compartment and discover whom the boy she'd be living with for the year would be. But then she changed her mind. 'Stop being so obsessive,' she said to herself. 'You'll figure out in good time—so just relax for the time being.' "Yeah, alright. Let's go."

They walked to the back of the train and found Ron and Ginny all ready seated in a compartment—along with some other kids. Hermione noticed them to be Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Seamus, and Dean; they were all fellow Gryffindors. Well, except for Luna—they'd be no way that chick would ever make a lion. The two best friends entered the compartment and greeted all the students with pats on the backs, handshakes and hugs. It was like a mini reunion.

Hermione was going over to Luna for a friendly hug, but the crazy Ravenclaw held her at arms length by her shoulders. She looked her up and down with examining eyes, causing Hermione to feel quite uncomfortable. "Jeez, Herm," Luna said, "whatcha do to yourself? You look…weird."

A blush covered her whole face and she pushed out of her grasp. "You don't like it, huh?" she asked embarrassed. "Well, it's a Muggling style and all my friends liked it so…"

A catcall was heard behind her and Hermione turned around to see Seamus grinning like an idiot and the other boys laughing. Neville spoke up: "I think what Seamus is trying to say is that you like bloody good, Herm."

"Yeah, seriously," Dean supplied, Seamus eyeing her like a puppy; she knew he had to be over exaggeration. Her blush brightened as she stole a glance at Seamus too—Hermione had to admit: the boy looked great (A/N: I don't know what Seamus actually looks like…anyone wanna give a description, please? Lol). Then she remembered what her "goal of the year" was… 'Maybe Seamus and I could possibly get together,' Hermione thought with a shy and timid smile, looking down and swaying her hips nervously. 'I can't back out…I need to be a girl, like Emily said.' But still, it just didn't feel right…

"Thanks, guys," she murmured, sitting down in a window seat, making sure her skirt didn't ride up. "I just thought it was comfortable is all…" Lie, and probably the biggest one she'd ever made. If anything, the outfit was frustrating; always making sure the skirt was pulled down and then the ability of _walking _in it. God knows why she went through with it.

"Well, it's bloody awesome." Everyone sat down as well and Neville asked, "So is that what you're gonna be wearing all year, 'Mione? Like all the other girls now?"

She blushed again, sadly hating that she wasn't part of "all the other girls." What was she, turning into a prep? 'No, that's insane,' Hermione reassured herself. 'You're feeling left out is all.' "Uh, not really," she finally answered. "Only on special occasions, or if I'm lucky enough to get a date this year. But other than that, no; I'll still be the same old girl." She reached up to brush a hand thought her hair when she realized that she had putted it up that morning. "Some of my Muggle Friends just filled me in on some new styles going around."

There were nods and small comments before they moved on to a different discussion with one another. Hermione leaned back in her seat and stared out the window as the forest scenery flashed by and enjoyed the warmth and chatter of her friends so close. Then Ginny's loud voice jolted her back to reality. "Oh my God, Herm! I forgot—we all forgot."

"Huh, what?" she asked, confused and shocked by the red head's sudden out burst.

Ginny jumped out of Harry's arms and pointed to her best friend's waist. "I totally forgot. Hey, guys—guess who made Head!"

"Hermione!" Neville, Seamus, and Dean gave her praise just like the others, telling they knew she'd be and asking to see the badge. She took it off the waist belt on her skirt, forgetting that she'd put it there because the material of her white tank top was too thin to support its weight. Smiling proudly, Hermione handed it to the boys and watched as they crowded around, flipping and rotating the badge in close examination.

"Speaking of Heads," Ron spoke, angry for some reason she knew not of, "shouldn't you be in the front? That's what the letter said at least."

"Yeah." Hermione stood up and smiled warmly at everyone. "Its about time I get going. We should be departing soon." She picked up Crockshanks' cage again along with a carry-on backpack. "I'll see you all at the sorting, okay? 'Bye." She exited the compartment with good-byes still coming out from it.

Ginny stoop as well. "I better be getting as well. I have to stop by my friend's normal compartment to say hi. Be right back." With that she blew a kiss in Harry's direction and exited the room.

Sighing, Hermione started for the front again, making sure not to hit the cage against anything. Who was going to be Head Boy? 'Draco, please let it be Draco…' Would they get along—did they know each other? 'I better well know him. And I better have kissed him!' Finally she reached her destination: on the door was written nicely, "Head Boy and Head Girl." Her stomach flipped as she stood in front of the door, her muscles tensing even though she told then to relax. 'Just get it over with!' she mentally shouted at herself. And before she could back down again, Hermione swung open the door; her mouth hung open at the seventh year Slytherin who sat casually on one side of the compartment. "You're joking… _You're_ Head Boy?"

--------Back to the Gryffindors!…and the Ravenclaw---------

The group of friends were being their usual selves: Luna was reading the Quibbler intently (count on her to have it upside down), Ron and Harry deep in a conversation about the new Quidditch season this year, Neville ranting on about how his Grandmother said once his father had found five buger and three puke flavored Berty-Bots Every Flavored Beans in only one bag while Seamus was listening, shoving the same candy in his mouth; Dean just sat staring out the window, softly singing a Muggles' favorite, I Miss You, by the artist Blink 182.

Suddenly Luna folded her paper and tapped Ron on the shoulder. "Huh?" he said, looking over at the crazed girl next to him. She leaned in closer and whispered something into his ear, causing the boy to blush brighter than his hair. "Of course I'm not jealous!" he screamed. The compartment became quiet, all eyes on him. Mumbling under his breath, Ron bowed his head so they couldn't see his burning cheeks.

"Ur…" Harry exchanged glances with everyone before turned to the only girl in the room. "What did you say to him, Luna?" he asked the Ravenclaw.

Luna blinked at him blankly. "Oh, noting out of the ordinary. I just asked him if he was jealous of Seamus because—" Before she could finish though Ron had clamped his hand over her big mouth. But they already heard enough. The boys started snickering; Seamus sat there grinning stupidly. Ron abruptly stood up, giving them the bird before stomping out of the train compartment, muttering curses all the way.

Harry stood as well, ready to chase after his best mate, but as soon as he left, his little sister walked in, frowning at the direction he had went off in. "What's up with him?" Ginny huffed; Harry grabbed her arm and flopped back on his seat, his girlfriend landing on his lap. Giggling, she said, "It's nice to see you again, too, Harry." She straightened up and repeated her earlier question. "So what's the matter with Ron? He looked pretty flushed."

Neville was the first to speak. "Ron is upset because Seamus has taken a liking to 'Mione," he chirped, putting it short and simple.

"Hey, sorry if I've got a good taste as well," Seamus laughed. He then became serious. "She's matured a lot over the summer—and I don't mean smart wise." More snickering and elbowing. "What more can a guy ask for? A nice body, sexy style, great hair, perfect lips—ouch!"

Ginny had taken off one of her shoes and threw it pinpoint at his head; she grinned at her exact aim. "Oops, I'm sorry, Seamus. Did I hit you?" she said in a sarcastically sweet voice.

Laughing, the Boy Who Lived hugged his girl friend close to his chest, resting his chin on her head. "I think what she means, Seamus, is that you probably shouldn't talk like that in front of Hermione's best friends. Sorry, mate, but I seriously don't find it comfortable talking about her like that. You know."

"Yeah, really," Luna added in. "Believe it or not, I am _not_ a lesbian." This started a whole new uproar of laughter from everyone. Loony Lovegood just stared at them blankly, not getting what was so hilarious. Giving a clear daze, she lifted the upside-down Quibbler, hiding behind it as usual. "Some times I just don't get you lot of Gryffindors."

Once they had calmed down, Ginny spoke. "Well, I guess he deserves it—Ron, I mean," she said. "He and Hermione have liked each other for years now, but neither admitted to it." Everyone agreed, nodding their heads. The pair couldn't be more obvious. "It could just be me, but they seem to be a bit more…comfortable around each other, like they're back to only best friends. And boy, do I hope so! Remember last year when Ron was with Lavender! What a ruckus!"

All of them started laughing once more. "Yeah, I remember that!" Harry grinned. "That was so annoying—Hermione was jealous beyond belief!" Thus began the chat about the "good ole times" (also known a the stupid things they had done in their past years at Hogwarts). After a while Harry brought the subject up again. "Ginny's right, you know: Hermione hasn't been taking much notice to Ron's teasing. Is it just me or…does she seemed to have changed over the summer?"

Seamus snorted and yelled, "Hell yeah! That's what I said!" Laughing their heads off, they hit the boy playfully.

"But really," Harry continued. "She seems a bit more relaxed and laid back lately." Ginny, who still sat on his lap, nodded. "Well, it's for the best of things; hopefully it will help her get along with the new Head Boy."

"Who is Head Boy, anyway?" the red head asked, looking up at her boyfriend who just shrugged. "Well, who were all the sixth year perfects? The boys, at least."

"Ron, Ernie Macmillan, Draco Malfoy, and Anthony Goldstein," Neville said, pride on his chubby face, soon replaced with fear. "You don't suppose Malfoy is a Head, do you? Dumbledore wouldn't even _think_ about that…right? Putting Hermione and him together…" He shuddered. (A/N: Dumbledore is alive, I say! _ALIVE!_)

Twirling a strand of red-orange hair around his finger, Harry shrugged. "Dunno." He kissed it, causing the girl in his lap to giggle, and then let it untwine. "Dumbledore knows how much we hate that bastard's guts… Then again he's always looking for some way to bond people together." An uneasy silence. "But even _he_ has to get that Slytherin and Gryffindor are never, _never_ going to get along."

---------Back to the Heads!--------

Sparkling dark eyes bore into hers. His dark hair was pulled back into a short, low ponytail that looked like it wouldn't last if he just simply turned his head (this bothered Hermione to the extreme, seeing as a boy shouldn't have their hair up in the first place) (A/N: unless it's a cute anime guy lol). He wore a toothy grin, causing his Italian face to brighten; it seemed perfectly flawless. Having changed so much, it took Hermione a moment to place him.

"Hermione Jane Granger," he said, an irresistible accent rolling off his lips. "Just as I suspected, eh?"

"Blaise Zabini," she said in turn, keeping her place at the entry. "But I'm afraid I can't say the same about you."

Chuckling, he stretched his body—which she found quite masculine—all the way out on his seat, feet dangling over and head resting against a pillow he'd propped on the window. "So, are you gonna come in?" he asked, smiling slightly. "Don't worry—I don't bite. Maybe some Slytherins, but not me." His relaxed and his calm manner made Hermione some how find a bit of peace. She gingerly walked in fully, shut the door behind, and then took her seat opposite of the young man. Placing the cat carriage next to her, she stuck a finger in the wired door; the feline fur ball within sniffed it and meowed, nudging it with his nose softly. Blaise lay there dreamily, staring at the Gryffindor and her cat with interest. "Why not take it out?"

Hearing his voice, Hermione jerked her head up to look at him. "Huh? Oh." It took her a second to register what he had said. "Students aren't allowed to let their pets loose in the compartments: it's a new rule. And, us being Heads, I think we should oblige and set the right example—"

"Because we are the Heads, everyone is to knock before entering our room," Blaise stated with a smirk. "So if need be, we could quickly put the cat up before bidding in our guest. Come on, please? I just wanna see the little fur ball." He pulled out his bottom lip into a puppy-pout—a face Hermione never thought a Slytherin could pull off. She hesitated for another moment before unlatching the cage door and flinging it open. A flat, tubby orange cat poked its head out, giving a small curious meow. She heard a muffled laugh and knew Blaise was surprised at her pet's shabby appearance. Then again, everyone always did the same.

Jumping out of his carrier, the feline easily landed on the ground. He looked about—eyes finally resting on the snickering boy. They both locked stares, neither of them blinking nor making a single move, for sure they'd be able to sense it. After a while the cat took a step towards him, then another, and another until he was at his feet. Crouching down, he then leapt up onto his lap. Blaise grinned in triumph, patting him on the head. "Good girl! What's her name?" he asked, looking up at he cat's owner.

"Crockshanks is a _boy_ actually," she corrected.

"Oh, sorry," the Slytherin said, rolling his eyes playfully. "Good _boy._" He scratched the cat in the hallow of his left cheek as though he knew all along that was his tender spot. Hermione just sat there watching, taking the time to fully drink in the new Head Boy's presence. He wore an expensive green and silver robe, making it clear whose house he belonged to. The thing that caught her attention though was it was not the custom long sleeved, but short, leaving tan muscular arms bear to the world. Her eyes traveled down to where the robe ended at his knees and then was taken over by the regular black slacks—only these seemed to be jeans, the seams sown of silver tread; the bottoms covered up most of his black shoes.

Getting a full, she finally looked back up—only to find herself trapped in Blaise's gaze, his dark eyes sparkling. "I—I—well, I—" She stuttered, not sure how to explain herself. Thankfully he spoke before she became a total fool.

"Well, well. Its good to know someone finds me admirable enough to stare at. And I must say, you're not a bad sight this year, either."

Hermione glared at him, mouth gapped open. "N—no! That's not what I meant! Yeah, you're admirable, but I—I was just wondering…" Trying to think quickly, she felt her side, feeling cool metal beneath her fingertips. "…where your badge is. I mean, you _did _get one, right?"

He smiled genuinely, now scratching Crockshanks behind the ears, whom in turn was purring softly. "Are you calling me a fraud, Hermione?" he questioned. "I'm ashamed! Of course I got one—along with the letter. Though I didn't wear it. This material is way too fragile for its weight."

"Where is it then?" the girl asked, still embarrassed.

"In my bag." He pointed above where a handbag sat on a metal luggage over-head.

"Could you show it to me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm too lazy at the moment."

Hermione couldn't help but grin. 'Boys will be boys.' "What about the letter? Do you have that?" Sure, she understood how teenaged boys worked—take her two best friends for example! But still, she needed proof before convinced; she had always been like this.

Blaise shook his head, pointing upwards again. "It's with the badge." Seeing the worried frown on her face, he continued. "If you still don't believe me, I could recite it for you." Clearing his throat, Blaise mocked the same words her note had said, of course with a different name:

_Dear Mr. Zabini,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you were selected this year to become Head Boy of Hogwarts. Only two students were selected for this honor, as you very well know._

_On the Hogwarts Express, we would appreciate if you would kindly sit in the Head's compartment where you will meet your new roommate (the other Head) and be instructed further on your duties and rules by a professor._

_We hope that the rest of your summer break goes well and that you enjoy this news._

_Sincerely yours,_

_The Hogwart's Staff_

The Gryffindor nodded, now positive. Who else would take the time to memorize it? "Okay, now that we've got that cleared up, I think that it would only make sense if we learned a bit of each other. I mean, we will be living together for the last year. We should get to know one another, set the example by getting along.

"All right." He let the cat jump back to the ground, letting him sniff his surroundings and then prance onto Hermione's lap. "How 'bout this: Twenty Questions." At the spark in her brown orbs, Blaise could tell she like the idea. "You go first."

"Um, okay. Who do you envy the most at Hogwarts?"

"Good question. And I'd have to answer my best mate, Draco Malfoy." The answer was simple and sweet but still cut though her like a knife. How she had hoped it was he she was having this conversation with right then… But it wasn't. Hermione couldn't help but wonder why the dark haired boy envied him. Didn't they have the same money, the same blood?

Blaise began to speak again. "Great! My turn. Hrm… Let's see… Okay, so what would you prefer: a red rose, or yellow?"

Hermione pondered on this for a minute, stroking Crockshanks' long wild hair. 'A yellow rose," she finally said, "because red is so abundant, so common. Yellow is a color of life and hope, it's a color that is beautifully unique." Her eyes grew softer as she continued. "The grand thing about roses though is that no matter what color or form, a rose's fragrance will always be the same. Weather it's petals are wilted from the lack of water and too much sun, or has delicately been cared for into a perfect bloom, it will always smell as sweet as the other."

Blaise stared at her for a moment, taking in the last she said. Then: "Wow. Beautifully said, Hermione. As expected from our year's top student, huh?"

She smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks. It's my turn for a question now, right?" The boy across from her nodded. "Then my question is…why are you being so kind to me?" She hadn't realized this was subconsciously bugging her the while time until she said it. "Why are you calling me Hermione? Why not Mudblood, or Beaver, or ever just Granger! Like all the years before. I just don't understand this sudden change."

Looking up, she saw Blaise sternly gazing at her , causing her to squirm in the seat. "You've changed," he said in a low voice after a pause, "making others do the same to equal out. As much as I hate to admit it, I can't find it in me to call you Mudblood. New style, new hair, new posture—if you ask me you look just as good as any pureblood around."

Hermione wasn't sure if she should've taken this as an insult or compliment. So instead she simply went back to giving Crockshanks attention, muttering a , "Your turn," to Blaise.

"Do you enjoy being called the 'bookworm'?"

"No." The single word came out sharper and harsher than she'd meant. "Would you enjoy it? I use to not care, but…I guess I just can't stand the taunting anymore, you know? I've grown up being taught to be an individual. The hard part is all the pressure put on you. It just keeps gathering up!"

"Yeah," agreed Blaise, "you think you can handle it, but then it gets out of hand. Peer Pressure."

Solemnly nodding, she went on. "Next question. What's your best subject?"

"Potions. Snape says I'm a genius when it comes to his class."

"I hate that man—mostly because he hates us."

"Hm…I wonder how he'll react when I tell him this…"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Ha-ha. Kidding, I was just kidding."

"I didn't find it the least bit humorous."

"To Hell you didn't! Look, you're smiling."

"Am not!"

Abandoning their game of Twenty Questions, they ended up just chatting about random things: What books had she read recently; what harmless pranks he'd pulled off over the summer; opinions of clothing brands and styles; the scrawny looking first years; Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw; Quidditch World Tournament; how old Crockshanks was; other pets; guessing on how old their Head Master was; and pretty much everything over and in between those categories.

The train had long ago departed and was now racing through a thick forest, quickly moving to where the scenery was blurred. In about just another hour or two they'd be arriving at Hogwarts: Witchcraft and Wizardry, the school that had been practically home for them for the last six years.

Hermione found herself easily chatting and laughing, enjoying the only company in the compartment. Strange, seeing as it was a Slytherin.

Suddenly the compartment door swung open—and a boy with bleached blonde hair and icy-blue eyes stepped in; the Head Boy's badge was neatly pinned over his heart, gleaming brighter than the entire Perfects'.

Crockshanks meowed loudly and jumped out of Hermione's lap. "Wait!" she cried, getting up to stop him. But the cat had already maneuvered his way around the young man's feet and out in the hall. "Crap!"

"Blaise, could you please get out? This is for the Head's only." Draco's voice was cool, a hint of laughter hidden within his eyes.

* * *


	8. I Can't Forget

A/N: Sorry for such the long wait! First I got into a writer's block and then I was just too lazy to finish this xD Please forgive me!

By the way, thanks so much for the reviews on the last chapter! It was my favorite of them all as well.

* * *

**Muggle World**

**Chapter Eight:**

**I Can't Forget**

Hermione was half standing, half crouching. She was about to run after Crockshanks but suddenly stopped when she caught Draco's eyes. She wanted to cry out in relief and tackle him in an embrace. But of course she couldn't do that with Blaise around. Damn him.

Secondly she registered his words and she looked over at the Italian who was grinning widely. "Sorry, mate," he said with a laugh. "You know I can't resist a good joke." He then turned towards a baffled Hermione. "Sorry about that, Granger—no offence I hope?" he asked with a smile. All the Gryffindor could do was nod, her mouth gapped open a bit in confusion. Okay, so wait: Blaise Zabini isn't the real Head Boy? And Draco Malfoy was? Or was this a joke? No wait this was a joke. Right? She gave up. "Well then, good. I better be on my way back then, change into school robes before we arrive." He then stood up—grabbing one of Hermione's hands as well and brought her up all the way. "It's been a pleasure getting to know you, 'Mione. Really." And with out expecting it, the boy kissed both of her cheeks feather-lightly, causing her to blush furiously and turn stone stiff. "Until later times then. Goodbye." He then exited the room, patting his best mate on the shoulder. When he passed by, he whispered so only the blonde could hear, "I envy you, man. Really."

Draco was glowering, obviously mad by his best friend's action towards his mudblood (yes, now that they were apart and he obviously and couldn't call her 'his girl' he went for the next best thing—'his mudblood'). But Hermione didn't notice; she was still standing there, shocked.

Speaking of which… Draco turned back to the compartment and watched the dumbstruck Hermione, and Boy! could he not have asked for a more perfect picture. The girl's mini skirt rode up high on the thigh visible to him, revealing the pale, lush and sensitive skin that would drive any man crazy to touch. He was not being horny, no. It was just the fact that the woman he constantly fantasized about was finally in his reach… With just one striding step he could reach up and caress that soft cheek, kiss those longing lips…

No. 'You can't do that,' he reminded himself bitterly and bit down on his tongue in frustration. 'You can't. You're supposed to forget! That was the deal…'

But how the heck was he suppose to do that? The last two months of summer break at the Malfoy Manor had been torturous, long, and sickening. After they had said their last farewells in the Muggle World, Draco and Narcissa Malfoy had apparated to Voldemort's latest domain to find Lucius kneeling at the Dark Lord's feet and briefing him on all the gossip he'd caught in Azkaban. Draco shuddered inwardly at the sight.

Stressed and worried beyond belief, Draco and his mother had waited nervously for him to meet them. Draco had wanted badly to run away as he watched him approach his family, knowing a punishment was in order—for both of them. But no; there was no escape in the first place and the punishment would just be harder to endure. There was no way around this man.

As the senior Malfoy walked towards the terrified two he was smirking. But as soon as he was in reach, he pushed Narcissa up against the wall by the neck with one hand. Draco started pleading with him, saying they were just there for a month, only to hide from the aurors. But Lucius had knocked him to the floor with his free hand, obviously not wanting to here his useless excuses. He hit his head and was knocked unconscious.

When the seventh year had woken up he found himself lying on the cold stone of the Malfoy dungeons in their basement of the Manor. He'd been placed there before and all ready had guesses about what would happen. A few hours later the boy's father came strolling along to his cell. He told him that he was to stay down there for two weeks with one meal a day. He told him that he hoped this would waste away the filthy muggle germs he had gathered through the small amount of time he'd spent away. Also he needed to learn his lesson.

"That was the most idiotic, dumb-ass thing you could have possibly done," his father had spat. "Living in such dirt… You've brought disgrace to the family, you and your mother." Lucius continued to rant on for what seemed forever to Draco; and he could do nothing except keep quiet and looking at the ground in false shame. He was a bug under this large man's gaze, a piece of trash littering his path. Right then Draco Malfoy was no better then a filthy mudblood himself by the disgusted glares he received from Lucius.

The two weeks passed by slowly and unmercifully. Each day he spent pacing the small cramped room, patient-less and wishing the time to fly to his evening meal. Not that he cared about the raw strip of meat and bread he received—it was a chance to seize the delivering house elf and ask it the one question that rang through his ears nonstop: Where was his mother? The thought that he wasn't there to protect her from Lucius' mad rages drove him crazy with guilt and anger towards himself. He should be there with her.

But every time Draco got a hold of one of the jittery creatures it would either resent and keep limp or start screaming and flapping around helplessly until he'd lat go, afraid it was creating such a ruckus it'd attract unwanted attention. He soon became sick with dread and worry for Narcissa. Not to mention physically sick as well. He had caught a miserable, non-stop cough from the damp, musty cell; it felt like his throat was on fire.

When his father finally came down after those two weeks to release him, Draco was sore and hurting like hell from sitting on the small cell's cold stone ground, every bone in his body screaming in agony. He had lost plenty of weight and muscle from the loss of fool and exercise. It took all of his might to stand up straight and keep the look of pain and misery from his face when Lucius entered.

Things went back to 'normal' after that. Te was able to eat his full three times a day and sleep soundly in his king-sized bed. But Lucius watched every move he made. The boy was constantly being forced into his father's company, wither it was over lunch, in his office, or just a simple walk in their grand gardens. They would talk of politics, new laws in the Ministry, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and—to Draco's disgust—how He would change this worthless planet.

The Ministry and its stupid Aurors would be vanquished, Lucius had said, and be replaced by the Dark Lord in full power. Anyone who tried to get in His way would easily be dealt with by the killing curse without second thought. The dark mark would be visible in every building, every house, every store to remind every_body_ of the new and hectic change.

Laws would be made by Him and Him alone, free to modified or added to His pleasure. Only a handful of his most trustworthy followers would be there to advise Him on an occasional basis—a dangerous job, no doubt. One wrong move under his nose and there would be no hesitation for them being exiled.

Draco's father said he would be one of those few and seemed quite proud of his new position. Draco wanted to laugh in his face and cry at the same time. This meant he was loosing his father already; a thing he wasn't sure was good or bad.

Their last conversation was the one Draco had been praying they'd skip over: Muggle Borns.

They had been walking along a garden's path when Lucius and so casually brought it up. He said he Dark Lorded planed to get rid of those blood traitors first (including the Weasley's) and then the half-breeds themselves (—Hermione Granger). Draco's heart sped up when his father started laughing about this, and he swore it could have been heard ten miles away. Plus, to make things worse, he swore he saw a smirk grace his pale lips when Draco cringed. The bastard knew. But he continued on with no pause, no gap. He said that then, once they had been taken care of, the Muggle World would be next in line. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would rampage on their homeland without wavering or caring what their thoughts or reactions of them doing magic were. The lowlives would be killed in an instant; as soon as they were gone the sooner they could start spreading Voldemort's domain.

After that last conversation Draco tried to keep as much distance and possible he could between himself and his father. He had to think about this, and with him there as a constant reminder it only made stress worse. Over that short period of time he'd spent over in the Muggle World he had grown to love it; the people and its culture. Everyone was friendly, laid back. There wasn't that constant stress about the war always lurking in the back of their minds. So now he finally understood the 'low, filthy place' he had grown up to hate—and ended up admiring it.

Narcissa was there—for only two moments tops before she scurried away, saying a kind word to Draco before she left. Lucius didn't seem to mind her oddity. In fact he didn't seem to even notice her. But when Draco had stood up once to run after her, he'd told him to sit in a deadly cold manner. He had obliged, and by that he never figured out what the bastard had done to his mother.

The rest of the summer went by slow and an uneasy atmosphere was all around the place. At last—after thinking he would be stuck there forever—it was time to go to his seventh, and final, year at Hogwarts.

And that's how he'd ended up there, on the Hogwarts Express, in the same compartment of the girl he'd grown to admire. They were to be Heads together and for a reason he was pretty sure he knew of his stomach flipped.

'You idiot!' he growled to himself mentally, remembering their statuses. 'She's a mudblood—filth, trash, lower than you, mere garbage…' But when he cleared his throat to catch her attention and those honey eyes met cold steel ones every attempt of hating her vanished and was replaced by that feeling he got every time he looked at her face…

They stood there a moment, gazing into each other's eyes before Hermione spoke.

"Draco—"

"Your cat ran out, Granger," the blonde sputtered before he knew exactly what he was saying. He pointed franticly to the left. "It went that way…I think." He felt a strange blush rising to his cheeks for some unknown reason and he casually looked down to hide it.

Hermione frowned and bit her bottom lip in confusion. Nice way to ruin the mood, Draco. She straightened herself up and tried to keep the distraught look of pain off her face. "Oh," she managed out in a whisper and scrambled out the compartment before she could embarrass herself any further. Draco graciously moved out of her way.

The Gryffindor looked towards the direction Draco had pointed out and gave a crying laugh. "Crookshanks!" she whined and jogged down the narrow passageway and stopped at an abandoned roll-cart where her fur-ball was standing on it. The cat, hearing his owner's voice, twirled around to give her a questioning look. While doing so he managed to knock a couple candy wrappers off and onto the ground.

"Silly kitty," Hermione sighed, scooping up her cat with one are and using her other hand to fling the trash back on the cart. She then brought the feline to her eye-level by his shoulders and grinned. "Don't you ever, ever do that again do you hear?" she cooed and snuggled her nose against the cat's cheek; he purred in response. "You'd be taken away from me if one of the teachers had found you before me! Plus, you know it's my first day being Head. I don't think it would be to great getting off on the wrong foot," she laughed and cradled him like a three-month-old baby.

Hermione smiled down at the fur-ball who looked up at her with that ever so curious look sadly. "Well, guess it's time to face that infuriating man, huh?" she asked the cat in a distant tone. "Here's the deal: we go in together. If he attacks me I plan on you having my back. Same here with you." She smirked when Crookshanks only meowed cutely and snuggled closer in the crook of her elbow. "It's a deal then." Taking a deep breath, she slowly walked back to their compartment and with her heart leaping she entered.

Draco had taken the spot—with the same position—Blaise was just sitting in minutes before. His eyes were closed and head bowed as if taking a nap. She didn't know what to do.

Placing Crookshanks in his carrier, Hermione took her seat once more and just sat there, hands in lap and twiddling her thumbs senselessly. When she realized he wasn't paying any attention at all, the girl flopped uselessly against the back of the cushioned bench, sighing loudly. "What's up?" she said to no one in particular, just feeling like she had to ask. When there was no answer (from anyone, not just Draco) she continued on only this time more to herself. "I can't believe I actually fell for Zabini's trick…that was totally retarded of me."

A snort of laughter was heard from the other side of the compartment and Hermione looked up just in time to see Draco's lips curled up in amusement before falling back into that bored expression, acting like he'd heard nothing. "So you're not a dead pile of junk then?" Hermione asked with a smirk referring to his slight chortle.

Draco looked up for a second, sparing Hermione a dangerous glance before hiding his face again. "No, I just found it humorous you fell for Blaise's old tricks," he replied in a monotone. "Besides, maybe I like being a dead pile of junk." This brought a nervous smile to the Gryffindor's face.

"Draco, are you—"

"Draco or Malfoy?" he asked. The question was quite clear.

Hermione's mouth never shut from being interrupted. After a moment of silence she sighed and slumped against the seat. "I…I don't know," she whispered as if she'd just admitted to defeat. She stared at her hands as they both sat there thinking.

"I don't either," Draco mumbled, shifting in his seat but not lifting his head. Another pause. "Granger and Malfoy would be the wise choice, though."

She nodded. "Yes, it would…" Sensing it was decided the two fell back to their awkward quiet. Hermione didn't like it but she knew it was only appropriate. An hour passed by like this and Hermione had eventually gotten up, rummaged through a bag real fast and left with a bundle of clothing. A moment later she had arrived back clothed in her school robes, her Head's badge pinned neatly next to her heart; finally she felt clothed. Once she'd gotten back to her spot—along with taking a book out—Draco had stood up and followed her lead. But before he exited…

He was at the doorframe and clutched it with one hand; his back was faced to her. "Gr-Granger?" His voice cracked from both the lack of using it and the want to taste her first name on his tongue once more.

At the sound of her name, Hermione looked up with her heart skipping a quick beat. "Yes, Malfoy?" Why did he look so stiff?

"I…I just wanted to let you know…that I can't forget." At his words she saw him flinch outwards, but her heart had come up to her throat, choking any response she might have had. In a flash he was out the door and left her stunned.

Hermione was left there for the rest of the short remaining time; he'd never returned after his last statement. It was five minutes before they disembarked from the train before he finally returned, only to gather up his stuff and motion for Hermione to follow. The two got off together (as requested) and pushed through the crowd to get to their carriage. Hermione found herself being separated from the Slytherin with all the commotion going on around them so she grabbed his shoulder. Both of them froze for half a second before she realized her mistake and gripped his carry-on leather bag instead.

When they finally reached their designated carriage they both flopped down into the worn benches, Draco at the front and Hermione in the back. They locked gazes for a moment before Hermione bowed her head in embarrassment and Draco smiled a genuine smile. It was like things were back to normal, just at the same time not.

The ride to the castle was short and soon they found themselves separating to go to their own house table in the Great Hall. Hermione met up with Harry, Ginny and Ron with a huge smile, hugging them and laughing at nothing in particular. She greeted her other long-missed friends with warmth and love; it was like a mini reunion.

A while later, once everyone had settled down and gotten to their tables, Dumbledore had stood up like usual and gave a wondrous speech before the sorting of first years began. They all cheered and clapped every time one of the kids was sorted into their house, happy to have another mate.

But then the old man did something he'd never done before. He asked for the two Heads of this year to stand up and come to his side. Both Draco and Hermione were wary of this new announcement but did as told. It seemed forever until she finally reached their Headmaster, the eyes of many drilling into her back and whispers being heard all around. Now she knew how Harry felt all those times he was forced to do such things.

The two got to him at the same time and stood next to either side of him, Hermione to his right and Draco to his left.

"Now, children," Dumbledore boomed to his students, placing a wrinkled hand on one of each their shoulders, "I know what you're thinking: a Slytherin and a Gryffindor. Shocking, isn't it?" He looked over at Hermione and gave her a wink. "Arch nemesis forever. But I think I can prove you wrong.

"Ever since this school of Witchcraft and Wizardry has opened these two houses have had a scrupulous hate towards each other. And with this war going on it's not helping anything at all. So this is why I bring these two worthy young-adults together—hoping to bond a friendship that has never been." There was a twinkle in his brilliant eyes.

"Many of you are probably thinking that this old man has finally fell off his rocker, but I assure you I know what I'm doing. Much thought have I put into this choice, and I hope that you will soon see my logic." The man who stood in front of these many children looked over them for reactions. "So then," he cleared his throat, "May I proudly introduce your new Head Girl and Boy—Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger!"

There was an uneasy applause from the four houses, the whispers and mumbled amassment seemed louder than it though. Hermione, not knowing what to do, held her head high showing everyone that she was proud of her position, not matter what. Not surprisingly Draco did the same. After a pause there was a push on her back and both the seventh years went back to their tables.

Sinking quietly onto her portion of the long bench Hermione tried her best to ignore the sympathetic looks and pats on the back from her schoolmates. What would they do if they figured out she was quite glad to be put in the same commons as a Slytherin? Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Sex God at no least?

Soon the announcements were over with and the feast began. There were audible gasps from the first years in their surprise and laughter and chat was heard all around the entire dinning hall. Hermione, slightly loosening up, joined in with her surrounding friends' conversation, laughing and enjoying her meal like all the others. She didn't want it to end, didn't want the light atmosphere to leave her hanging in that confusing world she was constantly in.

But too soon it was over. Everyone was swarming out, stomachs full and tired from the long journey there. Not knowing where to go, though, Hermione gripped Ron's elbow and he turned around to give her a questioning look. The girl only shrugged helplessly and nodded to move on. No one had told her where to go after this so she decided on the best alternative: go to her old dormitory, the Gryffindor Tower.

Right where they were about to get on the Grand Staircase, however, Hermione felt a strong hand wrap around her wrist and pull her backwards. She lost her grip on Ron—who, being a total bloke, didn't realize—and stumbled until she felt a firm chest on the small of her back. It was Draco.

Before she could react though he was pulling her away from the direction she was just a second ago heading. The constant motion of the crowd kept them from speaking and—to Hermione's disadvantage—from seeing exactly where they were headed. But soon enough Draco was standing in one of the halls where you could find a teacher's sleeping chambers and talking to a portrait on the wall; the Gryffindor presumed it was their entrance.

"So you're the new Heads for this year?" the painting of a burly man boomed from the frame. Draco nodded. "What do you think then, Wendy? Think they'll be a pretty good match?

Standing to his left was a small woman, her mousy blue hair caught up in a messy ponytail and her mouth twitched slightly. "I don't know, John," the witch drawled slowly, studying the two with seeing eyes. "Just look at their robes. Slytherin and Gryffindor. Why, I don't believe we've come across this pairing before, have we dear!"

"No, we have not yet indeed, Wendy."

"Oh, just shut up!" Draco spat, obviously annoyed at the two gawking at him and Hermione. The couple glared down at him. "The password is 'Ever Lasting', now open up before you're blown to pieces." Not sure how to react to his harsh terms, the portrait swung open and Draco stomped in flustered. Hermione followed—after saying a quick apology.

Wanting to see the new living area she would be spending most of her time in, Hermione rushed up the small flight of stairs only to bump into the Slytherin blocking her view, crashing her fragile nose against his back.

"Ouch," she whined, clutching her throbbing nose and glaring at her roommate's back. "Move out of the way, Draco!" she said, pushing the Slytherin to the side so she could get a look at what he was gawking at.

In front of them was a luxurious commons, the interior so much more extravagant than their old house's. All around was silver, green, red, and gold; somehow they all blended in together, not clashing at the least. To the left was a large couch, an over-stuffed lounging chair, and a rocking chair sitting on a beautifully designed rug, all surrounding a welcoming fire place that blazed with life.

To the right was quite the surprise: a pool table stood in the middle with an entire set of necessities, a large stereo-system with countless CD's neatly piled next to it on a rack, three beanie-bags laying around a Play Station 2 hooked up to a plasma T.V., Quidditch posters littering the walls and a fuse-ball table next to a pile of board games. It was a muggle's paradise and Draco couldn't help but feel excited.

In the middle of their commons stood a miniature kitchen, supporting a sink, refrigerator, and an oven. Hermione rushed over to it and immediately started scavenging through the many cupboards and drawers. Food mix, teas, herbs, canned vegetables and fruits, oils, sugar and flower covered an entire pantry. Pans and pots littered others along with every cooking utensil they would need.

"Oh, this is great!" Hermione peeped, bouncing up and down on the balls of her heels. She began searching through the higher shelves. "Now we wont even _have_ to go down for breakfast—we can make it right here!"

"You're kidding, right?" Draco stood at the pool table where he had been examining one of the poles; though he did not know how to play, it didn't seem too tough from the looking's of it. "Hey, 'Mione, get over here!" he called over to the kitchen. She jogged right over.

"Yeah?" The Gryffindor look at him and then down; a wicked smile played at the corner of her lips when she realized what was going on. "Malfoy, you better not be challenging me to a game. For your information I am a master at pool." She held her head up in a queenly manner.

Draco shoved the other stick into her hands. "Look, just teach me how to play first." A spark came to his gray eyes. "And then we'll see if you're as good as you think." Winking, he motioned for her to go on and explain. After just a quick fifteen minutes lesson Draco had already caught on. He watched Hermione's every move, mimicking her ways some and others adjusting to his own comfort. Once he thought he'd gotten it down, he turned towards the witch with a smirk. "Well?" he asked. "Do you think I'm ready?"

Hermione was glaring at the Slytherin boy. "How is it that you're perfect at every game?" she demanded; Draco shrugged helplessly and she rolled her eyes. "Never mind, let's just play." She started taking out the recently shot balls and placing them in the triangle. "Just because you're a fast learner doesn't mean you can beat me at a game of strategy."

"You sure about that?" Draco mused, coming up from behind. She nodded eagerly, still arranging the pool table. "Well then, I guess you wont mind me being a little tricky then." He grabbed her waist and pinched the sensitive flesh there, knowing it would make her jump like it always did with others. And she did.

"Eep!" Out of natural habit Hermione twirled around in his grasp and raised a hand to smack him; too bad he intercepted it and held her wrist, grinning down at her. The Gryffindor glared up at him. "That wasn't funny," she snapped, a tint of humor now glinting in her eyes. She couldn't help it. "And no, it's not okay for you to cheat like that!"

"Oh, yeah?" he purred, bringing her body closer to his. "And how do you plan on winning then?"

Hermione just smirked devilishly and pushed away from him. "I break first."

Teasing, tripping and spooks were used to through the other off balance. At first it was just Draco doing so, but Hermione, soon becoming ticked off, joined in his little game. They were laughing all through it and when Hermione won by two balls Draco demanded a rematch. Hermione just giggled. "Whatever!" she said, going over to change the music they had been playing on the stereo. "You lost fair and square—just admit it. Besides"—she jumped on a beanie-bag and motioned for Draco to do the same—"there's still much to try out." Thus they began a racing videogame (though the Gryffindor had protested at first for anything else).

It was 1:30 in the morning before they were both worn out, Hermione splayed over Draco's chest on the couch while they watched the fire in contentment. They stayed like that in peace for what seemed forever, neither wanting to get up and ruin the moment; it was Draco who finally spoke.

"Time to get up," he yawned, shifting a bit to get the witch's attention. She just mumbled something and snuggled closer to his chest. "'Mione," he said, "time to get up, get in our own beds."

Hermione just shook her head. "No. I like it like this…" She sighed in contentment. "In fact, I haven't been more comfortable in a long time…"

Draco only grinned and lifted her up himself. "Same here," he replied, brushing hair out of her face and staring into those tired eyes with a smile. "But…we can't be like this, you know."

Those last words struck her hard and Hermione didn't know how to comprehend. "You're right…" she mumbled and back away from him slowly, still not sure what to do. "I mean…it wont work out." She rushed over to where her room was and said, "Good night, Malfoy."

He bowed his head in shame. "Good night…Granger," he bit out the last word. When the Slytherin heard the click of her door closing, Draco followed suit and sulked over to his. Right when he was about to enter, however, he heard his name in a whisper.

"D—Draco?" He spun around to see Hermione half behind her door.

"Yeah, Herm?" For some reason that nickname stuck with him ever since the Muggle World.

"I was wondering… What happened after you left?" The Slytherin visibly flinched but covered up with a small smile; Hermione bit her bottom lip in anticipation.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," he reassured her and slipped into his own room before she could reply.

* * *

A/N: Hey, go check out my best friend's stories! They're on Quizilla under the pen-name kittywhiskers05. I really enjoy her writing (hillarious for the most part with quite a bit of sarcasm xD, other times serious) and I think you guys will too! Thanks!

Please review! I'll love you FOREVER! MUAH!

Peasant


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